


The Drawing

by HPGunshot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, The Selection inspired, harem but not a harem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-07-06 00:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPGunshot/pseuds/HPGunshot
Summary: What started out as a traditional competition became so much more when Hermione's father suddenly fell ill. The money from the Drawing would pay for her father's surgery, all Hermione had to do was convince an entire kingdom she was falling for their prince. [H/Hr. AU]





	1. Chapter 1

**The Drawing**

**Chapter One**

A loud bang jolted Hermione from her sleep. With a startled gasp, her eyes snapped open and she shot up, her heart racing from the sudden sound. Delighted laughter filtered through the dilapidated walls of her home moments later, making the young woman curse under her breath. Those damn neighbours were always letting their children experiment with magic when it was safe to do so, which almost always resulted in some sort of loud explosion. Hermione briefly wondered what sort of damage the little hellions had caused this time but forced herself to not think about it.

As annoying as the children were, Hermione would always force herself to put up with it. She (along with the rest of the neighbourhood) would turn a deaf ear to the noises being made. When the dates for the monthly inspections were announced, everyone in the neighbourhood would pitch in to help with the scorched fences and dead grass. Everyone would smile smiles of barely concealed contempt and tell the officials, “No there hasn’t been any use of magic around here” when they did decide to show up.

Because no matter how much those little boys annoyed everyone, no matter how much Hermione _hated_ the boys’ parents for ignoring everyone’s warnings to stop letting their children play with fire, no one would _ever_ wish the punishments the family would receive if they were turned in. 

Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched in her chair, her back aching in protest. She had fallen asleep while reading _Hogwarts, A History_ and was sure that her cheek had a lovely imprint of a page on it. She grabbed her bookmark and placed it on the page she had left off before closing the book.

Judging from the warm sunlight that peeked through her shabby curtains, Hermione surmised it was nearing the late afternoon. That realization made her heart lodge itself in her throat and she grabbed her book, scrambling off of her chair before kicking it to the side. Beneath the table she used as a desk were a series of floorboards that she had managed to pry loose over the years. With practiced precision, she dug one of her chipped nails into the edge of a floorboard and pulled, trying not to cough from the dust that lifted up with the board. An aged sheet of muslin was holding the books Hermione had begun to collect inside the little hole. She pushed the fabric aside, placed her book on top of the stack and covered them back up with the muslin, taking extra care to make sure they were securely wrapped. After popping the floorboard back in place, Hermione stood up, moved the chair to its original position and ran out of her room.

She was going to be late.

The living area was dark and musty as Hermione ran into it. Her bag was still on the sofa from when she had flung it that morning in her haste to get a few hours of reading in before she was expected to be at work again. She slung it over her shoulder, grabbed her keys and left her house.

By the time she reached the mansion, her boss was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and glaring fiercely at the young woman.

“You are late.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Pince,” Hermione began, skidding to a halt. Her trek left her slightly breathless and she swallowed hard. “I –”

“Save it,” Mrs. Pince held her hand up, effectively cutting Hermione off. “I don’t care what your excuse is. You were told to be here at a specific time and I expect you to be here, _working_ , at that time.”

Hermione winced. She nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the ground in front of her. “It won’t happen again, Mrs. Pince.”

“No, it won’t,” the older woman agreed. “And for God’s sake child, look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped up to meet Mrs. Pince. The harsh woman narrowed her gaze, taking in her appearance. “You’re to meet with Molly in the kitchen. She’ll explain what your task is today because I can’t be bothered to go over it _again_.” Hermione cringed. “And do something with that hair. I know your type lack etiquette but _that_ is simple common sense.”

Hermione felt herself flush angrily as she reached up to self-consciously pat her hair. Her wild brown curls had tamed somewhat over the years as she matured, but she was sure they were all over the place thanks to her rushing to try and get to work on time. Mrs. Pince raised her eyebrows at her, clearly expecting an answer. Hermione wanted to tell the woman where to go and how to get there but instead mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Pince stepped aside, letting Hermione hurry through the doorway. Inside she could hear the bustle of other Fives going about their duties. She kept her head down as she reached into her bag, grabbing the rag she used to tie her hair up and quickly did so. After storing her bag in the little cupboard they were allowed to use, Hermione quickly made her way to the kitchen. She pressed her hands against her cheeks; they were burning so much it almost hurt.

Hermione spotted the portly Molly Weasley instantly when she reached the kitchen. The middle-aged woman had the brightest shade of red hair Hermione had ever seen on someone, making her stand out amidst the browns, blacks, and blondes of the others in the room.

Molly turned as she approached and sighed sympathetically, obviously taking in Hermione’s still red face.

“Don’t worry about Mrs. Pince, dear,” she said quietly, handing Hermione a bucket filled with soapy water.  Molly turned, grabbing a couple of sponges before beckoning the younger woman to follow her out of the kitchen.

“It’s hard not to,” Hermione muttered, keeping her eyes on the bucket. She moved with small steps, trying to keep the water from sloshing onto the floor.

“Yes, well…” Molly trailed off and sighed again. “Why were you late?”

Hermione bit her lip. “I, uh, fell asleep reading.”

“You? Fell asleep reading?” Molly turned to stare at Hermione with a dubious expression.

“I was tired,” she defended, feeling the heat in her cheeks return.

They turned a corner and walked down a long, narrow, marble hallway. Once at the end, Molly gestured for Hermione to set the bucket down and held out a sponge.

Kneeling down, Hermione began to scrub at the floor viciously. It had taken all the willpower Hermione possessed to be able to be the quiet and submissive Five that was expected of her while Mrs. Pince lectured her.  _No_ , Hermione thought bitterly, _not expected – required_.

Her mother had told her time and time again that she was too prideful, that her mouth would get her into trouble. And it did. There were times when Hermione couldn’t hold her tongue when someone talked down to or belittled her, and she _had_ paid the price. The scars and scabs on her knuckles were testament to that. But things were different now and she couldn’t afford to lose her temper. So, Hermione kept her head down and bit her tongue, taking her frustrations out on whatever task was given to her – like the poor marble floor.

Hermione was able to lose herself in her work and about six hours later, Mrs. Pince allowed them to leave for the night. Hermione reached up and pulled the rag from her hair, running a hand through her curls to get out any kinks. She felt sticky and gross from the physical work she had done and her stomach was beginning to cramp from hunger.

“Two o’clock at the Chang residence, Granger,” Mrs. Pince announced as Hermione walked by her to grab her bag. Molly had left before her and she didn’t want to keep the woman waiting. Nonetheless, Hermione paused and gave a tired nod. “And I _expect_ you’ll be there no later than ten to.”

“Of course,” Hermione said softly, making sure to look Mrs. Pince in the eye.

There was a pause and then Mrs. Pince nodded. Hermione turned to leave just as Mrs. Pince’s voice stopped her yet again. “The only reason you’re here is because your father is a good man and I owe him a favour. You best remember that.”

**[o][o][o]**

“I forgot to ask – how’s your father doing?”

Hermione paused, watching as the murky water drained from the sink. The usual flicker of worry wormed its way into her stomach as it always did whenever she thought of her father and she fought to push it down. “He’s okay,” she said, clearing her throat. “Mum says he’s starting to look better now, but that’s what she always says.”

Molly clucked her tongue sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said in a soft voice that only mothers seemed to possess. “But your father is strong, he’ll get better soon.”

Hermione said nothing and nodded, hating the way her throat constricted and her eyes began to burn. She cleared her throat one more time before placing the bucket under the faucet and turning on the tap. After washing the bucket out, she banged it a couple of times against the edge of the sink to get any excess water out before placing it in the cupboard. Their tasks for that day were finally completed and Hermione was eager to get home.

“All finished, I presume?” Mrs. Pince asked, walking into the kitchen with her head held high.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” the woman nodded, her beady eyes taking in the two in front of her. “You may go now. Be here again tomorrow at the same time.”

Hermione gave a quick curtsy and another “Yes, ma’am,” before scurrying out of the kitchen, Molly right behind her. The sun was just beginning to set as they stepped outside. The cool air felt wonderful on Hermione’s skin and she allowed herself a happy sigh.

Molly let out a pained groaned, causing her to look back. The older woman was rubbing the back of her neck while craning head from side to side and grimacing slightly. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to use magic at work,” she said wistfully.

Hermione pressed her lips together painfully, unable to stop the hitch in her breath. Thankfully, Molly didn’t notice that she had slipped up and kept on walking. Hermione wasn’t offended by her friend’s words; Molly would never consciously say something that mean to Hermione. In fact, Molly was usually extremely careful when talking about magic around her. No, Hermione knew that Molly meant well and that she sometimes forgot that even though they were both in the same caste, the Weasleys were still of a higher status than Hermione.

They were allowed to use magic outside of work. She was not.

“Is your mother visiting your father again this weekend?” Molly asked completely oblivious to Hermione’s inner-monologue.

“She is,” she nodded, pushing down the flash of bitter resentment she had felt. “She took the last bus into the city after her shift today.”

Molly hummed, her brows furrowing. It was no secret that the older woman was not impressed with how Hermione’s mother was handling her father’s sudden illness. In fact, it caused quite a few arguments between the two women. Hermione’s family had grown close to the Weasleys over the years and while the bond between them and Hermione had grown over the past four months, her mother was starting to wear out her welcome.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, dear?” Molly suggested. “It’s not good for you to be in that house alone.”

This was also another regular argument that happened between Hermione and Molly. With Hermione’s mother spending more and more time in the city with her father, the Weasleys would offer Hermione some of their hard-earned food. At first, Hermione accepted. The Weasleys had come into some extra money with the surprising promotion of one of their children. But after Percy decided he was too good for his ‘low status’ family and moved to a nicer town (and taking the extra income with him), Hermione felt bad for taking them up on their offer. The family of eight needed all the money they could get just to have one meal a day. She couldn’t agree to that when Molly had her own children to think of.

“I think I’ll pass for tonight,” she said, trying to give Molly a smile. She was sure it came out more of a grimace. “I’m really tired from today’s work and I have to be up early tomorrow for my shift at Mr. Masen’s.”

“Mr. Masen’s?” Molly stopped, reaching out and pulling on Hermione’s arm to turn her around.

“Yeah,” Hermione nodded, trying to ignore the scrutinizing look the older woman was giving her. “Mr. Masen found out Dad was sick and sought me out. He said if we needed any help with money to let him know so I’m starting to do work for him in the mornings.”

“Oh, Hermione,” Molly breathed. “No wonder why you’re tired all the time!”

Hermione had to look away from the sadness that filled Molly’s brown eyes. She didn’t need her pity.

Molly grabbed both of Hermione’s hands and tugged on them, forcing her to look at the woman. “I’ll leave you be tonight, but you _are_ coming over tomorrow for dinner and I am _not_ accepting a refusal,” she stated, her voice holding no room to argue. “We’ll have a family meal and then we can all listen to the broadcast together, understand?”

Hermione felt a genuine smile creep up on her and she nodded, her heart suddenly bursting with love for the Weasley family. Try as she might, Hermione couldn’t say no _all_ the time. Molly could be damn persistent. “Loud and clear.”

Molly smiled, gently patting Hermione’s cheek and they continued walking. They eventually parted ways and Hermione walked down the slightly uneven sidewalk, watching as the posh surroundings she began in bled into the dirty, rugged area she had learned to call home.

As she turned onto her street, Hermione noticed there were new scorch marks on the fence across from her house. She rolled her eyes, wondering what the Creevey boys had done this time.

**[o][o][o]**

Hermione arrived at the Chang residence at precisely quarter to two. She stood outside of the gates, quickly finishing off the muffin Mr. Masen had given her and tied her hair up. Fridays were huge days for all members of society in the kingdom. It was the day that the _Hogwarts Express_ aired.

The _Hogwarts Express_ was an hour-long programme that updated everyone with the goings on around the kingdom and within the royal family. Most of the time it was useless drivel filled with gossip and thinly veiled drama with just a dash of politics. But because there had been civil unrest with the provinces to the North, the _Hogwarts Express_ was starting to add more military and strategic content to their show. However, that didn’t stop people from making the weekly show a cause for celebration.

Every Friday, houses of higher castes would hold parties before and after the broadcast. While the broadcast was free to everyone within the kingdom, it was only the people who had money that were able to actually _watch_ the broadcast. Those who weren’t lucky enough to serve at the parties or able to afford a Telefloo had to settle with listening via Wireless.

There was a flurry of activity when Hermione entered the kitchen of the Chang residence. Cooks rushed around, beginning their preparations for that evening’s meal while Fives dashed in and out nonstop. Standing on a crate in the middle of the kitchen was Mrs. Pince’s second in command. With a hand on her hip, she barked out orders to the servants passing by.

“I need all Fives to get to cleaning right away. If you answer to Mr. Filch, go to the ballroom. All Fives answering to Mrs. Pince go to the parlor to set up the area for after the broadcast.”

Hermione turned on her heel and quickly made her way to the parlor. When she arrived, she saw that other Fives had already begun to push the tables and chairs aside so the floor could be washed.

A tall, dark haired man around Hermione’s age entered right after her carrying a bucket of water in each hand. “Hey, Hermione,” he greeted as he past her.

“Hi Justin,” she smiled back, following him into the room.

“Come on, let’s finish this so we can go home.” Justin handed Hermione a mop and pointed to the bucket that had been placed in the corner of the room. “I hear the king is making an announcement tonight. Apparently, there’s going to be some type of event going on.”

“Event,” Alice Longbottom scoffed from where she was stacking chairs in a corner. “Since when do events have anything to do with _us_?”

Justin looked slightly put out at the older woman’s remark, his face falling.

“Where did you even hear about that, Justin?” Hermione asked.

“I help out at the Thomas residence sometimes. Mrs. Thomas apparently just came back from visiting the palace and this event was all anyone could talk about,” Justin reported dutifully.

Hermione nodded, knowing how fast gossip and rumours could spread throughout households. She dipped the mop into her bucket and rang it out just as Molly walked into the room.

“The ladies of the town seem to think some sort of ball will be happening,” she announced. She obviously had caught the tail end of what Justin had said. “Ginny is going around saying she thinks the ball will be for all castes.”

“That would be the day,” Justin said dreamily, resting his chin on the handle of his mop.

Alice walked over and cuffed the man on the back of the head. “Stop your daydreaming and get back to work,” she hissed. “If Mrs. Pince caught you like that -”

“Yeah, yeah,” Justin grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Alice.

Hermione shook her head at their antics and began to mop the floor. The four of them worked quickly to wash the floors, set up the tables and chairs, and make sure everything would be ready for the Fives that were lucky enough to work that evening.

“I wish I could see the broadcast,” Molly said as they were cleaning up. “Just once, you know?”

Hermione found herself nodding in agreement. She knew what the royal family looked like thanks to magazines and posters but could never really put the faces to the voices. And despite being annoyed at the flashy nature of the show, curiosity really did make Hermione want to watch a broadcast at least once.  Those who had seen the broadcast said everyone was always dressed beautifully (which wasn’t a surprise) and the host, Lee Jordan, had hilarious facial expressions.

Mrs. Pince arrived soon after to relieve them of their duties. Hermione grabbed her bag and followed Molly down the street. She was beginning to regret agreeing to the dinner but knew there was no way of getting out of it now.

“Everyone is excited to see you again,” Molly chattered happily as they walked. “Ron’s been asking about you a lot.”

Hermione felt herself flush and she rubbed her neck. Ron was the second youngest of the Weasley children and just a year older than her. She always recalled him teasing her mercilessly whenever they were together as children, almost to the point of tears, and her father telling her that was his way of saying he liked her.

“What is Ron up to now?” Hermione asked, wanting to change the subject. The last she had heard, Ron was struggling to find work and that was putting a strain on the relationship between him and his father.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you, didn’t I?” Molly beamed at her. “Ron got a in with Oliver Wood - you know, the Three who teaches up on Churchill?”

“What?” Hermione gasped. “Molly! That’s great!”

“I know,” Molly sighed, looking every bit the proud mother that she was. “Things were touch and go for a while after –” she cut herself off and cleared her throat. Hermione felt a rush of anger towards Percy. “Well… things were pretty hit or miss. But it’s getting better. I can’t believe it. My baby boy got such an amazing opportunity!”

Hermione reached out and squeezed Molly’s arm, so happy for the family. It was hard for anyone in the lower castes to gain rank so having Ron do so was quite an accomplishment. A small part of her worried that he would have it go to his head like Percy had, but she quickly dismissed it. Ron, although prone to jealousy, was a lot more level headed than Percy ever was. Plus, the jump in rank wasn’t nearly as drastic for him as it was for Percy. At the end of the day, Ron was still a Five while Percy jumped from being a Five to a Three.

The caste system wasn’t always as it was. After the Great Wizard War almost a hundred years ago, all of the kings met together to form a peace treaty. They decided to band all of the warring kingdoms under one crown and, after much debate, the Potters came out on top. Of course, that was what was told to everyone. History books were considered illegal to everyone except for a few select Ones and Threes, and even then, they weren’t allowed to let their students read from them. To know the history of the kingdom of Hogwarts was, at least to royalty, considered a huge honour and they couldn’t let just _anyone_ know their past.

There were six main castes in the kingdom and they were labelled by numbers:

The One caste was reserved for immediate members of the royal family and head of religious houses.

The Two caste was for royal advisors, branching members of the royal family, diplomats, and celebrities.  

The Three caste was for educators and scholars of all types, doctors, legal advisors, and high-ranking military officials. It used to include the families of those who served under the One caste but King James got rid of that rule a few years ago. Percy had managed to become an apprentice of a budding politician, thus making his rank a Three almost immediately.

The Four caste was left for your average workers. They ranged from bakers to factory workers and while they weren’t as well off as those from Three, they certainly didn’t struggle as much as those in Five and Six did.

The Five caste was the only caste that had an unofficial hierarchy within it. It began with everyone within Five being a servant of some kind. But as the population in the higher castes grew, people from One and Two began wanting a higher _caliber_ of servant. Thus, the hierarchy of the Fives was born. Everyone was called a Five but a Five who served under the crown was extremely different from a Five that served under a Three or even a Four. Unfortunately, both Hermione and Molly were at the bottom of Five totem pole.

Somewhere between when the caste system was created and now, witches and wizards born to non-magical or half and half parents became a pariah. Non-magical peoples were a big cause of concern to the kingdom. It had only been fifty years since muggles (what witches and wizards called the non-magical people) were even allowed into the country. There was still discrimination against them but they were able to live peacefully. They were given sections of cities to live in and as long as they were loyal to the Hogwarts crown, had their own governments and laws.

However, almost immediately after King Charles made the decree to let muggles live and work in the kingdom, the rate for muggle born witches and wizards rose dramatically. What was even more terrifying (to the higher ups, at least) was that the number of squibs being born (a person born from a wizarding family with no magical ability whatsoever) also rose, seemingly from nowhere. This reinforced the unofficial hierarchy of Fives to make sure that Ones and Twos were given Fives from poor, but respectable, wizarding families.

The Six caste was the lowest caste possible. These people were usually jobless and homeless, left to beg on the street or turn to a life of crime. Squibs and muggles who no longer had a wizarding family to help support them (the muggle parts of the kingdom were extremely hesitant to allow muggles back in after leaving) were usually the ones who made up this caste, but runaways found their way into being Sixes as well.

Although the Sixes got the worst treatment, it was within the hierarchy of Fives that people suffered from the most discrimination. Fives serving the castles and Ones and Twos were able to amass a small, meager wage and could afford to be proud. Those Fives could be put in charge of their own employees, essentially becoming a boss. It was the Fives that served under those Fives that got the brunt of discrimination. Most of the people who had to work underneath another Five were either too poor to work their way up, somehow fell out of favor with the main Five in charge, or were muggle-born. It was those Fives, sometimes called Fifth District Fives, that were not allowed to use magic while working.

Because Fifth District Fives were mainly muggleborns, the government issued a statement stating they were ‘uneasy’ with allowing them the use of magic while in the presence of their muggle families. 

Muggleborns, for the most part, understood this statement. There had been some civil unrest between the muggles living in the kingdom and lower caste magical people so they could understand the government’s concern. For a while they were only allowed to use magic while at work. When Hermione was just a little girl and showing signs that she was, indeed, magical, King James decreed that muggleborns were not to be used magic, at all. A muggleborns caught learning magic was an immediately jail sentence and sent to be a Six.

Neighbourhoods that housed Fifth District Fives received monthly inspections by guards to make sure no one was doing magic illegally. Those caught covering for them were stripped of their caste and, after a harsh punishment, pushed into the Six caste.

Molly grabbed Hermione’s hand and tugged on it when the Weasleys’ two story home came into view, pulling her from her thoughts. Hermione grinned. Apparently, she was walking too slow for Molly’s liking and allowed herself to be dragged up the front yard to the door.

“Hermione!”

Suddenly, Hermione was enveloped by a mass of red hair and arms. Laughing, she tried to wiggle her arms out of the hug to wrap them around Ron. “Ron! Ginny!”

Ron let Hermione go only to have Ginny spring into her arms, giving her a big hug.

“It’s been too long!” Ginny gushed, squeezing Hermione tightly.

“I know,” Hermione said, feeling a bit guilty. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ron waved it off, pulling Ginny off of her while Molly looked on with a smile. “We understand.” He draped an arm around her shoulder and led the way into the house.

Once she stepped into the house, Hermione groaned as the delicious aroma hit her. “That smells good,” she moaned.

Ron sniggered, clearly amused. “Charlie’s been cooking up a storm once we found out you were coming for supper.”

“Really?” Hermione felt her smile grow.

“Of course,” Ginny scoffed, rolling her eyes. “According to Fred and George you’re the sister they wished they had. I really should hate you.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head. The twins were two of the most mischievous people she had ever met, but they were oddly charming at the same time.

“I’m going to go see if any help is needed in the kitchen,” Molly said, excusing herself. Ron and Ginny led Hermione into the living area and she sat down on the couch.

“Oh – congratulations, Ron!” Hermione said. “I’m so happy about your promotion!”

Ron grinned sheepishly, his ears turning pink. “Thanks,” he replied. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

“You should’ve seen his face when he came home from his first day of work,” Ginny taunted, grinning at her brother.

“Gin,” Ron groaned.

Hermione laughed and then turned to Ginny. “What about you? Are you still working at the hotel?”

“Yeah,” Ginny sighed. The light in her eyes dimmed slightly. “Still there.”

“At least it’s steady work,” Hermione offered. “You know you have a place.”

“That’s true,” she nodded. “I guess I’m pretty lucky with that.”

Dinner was called after that and the three of them made their way into the dining room. It was always a bit cramped around the small table, but Hermione loved the atmosphere. She spent dinner getting caught up with all of the Weasleys and, after helping with the cleanup, found herself back in the sitting area wedged in between Fred and Ginny as they waited for the _Hogwarts Express_ to air.

“I wonder what the event is going to be,” Ginny pondered. Hermione rolled her eyes; this hadn’t been the first time she had brought it up that evening and, if Hermione was being honest with herself, it was starting to get a little annoying.

“We’ll find out soon, Ginny,” Arthur Weasley stated calmly, looking up from his magazine. The magazine was tattered and well worn. The older man had spent months saving up his extra money to be able to buy the magazine about six years ago. It was his pride and joy.

“Not soon enough,” she grumped, huffing. Hermione snorted.

Finally, the opening jingle sounded from the Wireless. Ginny let out a little squeak and rushed to the radio, cranking the dial to the right to make it louder.

“ _Gooooooood evening, ladies and gentlemen!_ ” Lee Jordan’s voice filled the small room, crackly and distorted from the Wireless’ age. “ _Welcome to this week’s_ Hogwarts Express _! We have a full show tonight, folks so let’s jump right into it. King James, if you’d be so kind.”_

There was a break with polite applause as King James made his way to wherever he was supposed to go. Ginny bit her lip as she waited. Hermione wanted to tell her she didn’t think they would announce whatever it was that was getting everyone in a tizzy so soon but never got the chance as the king began to talk.

Like Hermione had predicted, the king began with some talk about budgets and some politician wanting to start a petition for better schooling within Hufflepuff. Beside her, Ginny was slowly losing interest and began to fidget with her worn out jeans.

The next forty-five minutes continued on much like that. King James, along with some of his advisors would talk about the world around them with little interruptions from Lee to keep things entertaining.

_“Alright – here’s the part I know a lot of you have been waiting for_ ,” Lee began. He must have given a look to someone because laughter could be heard in the background. “Someone _let it slip that there was going to be something exciting happening pretty soon. I think a lot of us agree that it’s been quite entertaining listening to people all week trying to figure out what it that’s going to happen._ ” There was another break with more laughter. “ _So without further ado… Prince Harry, would you please?_ ”

Ginny let out another squeak, her eyes wide as a generous amount of applause could be heard. Prince Harry never spoke during the _Hogwarts Express_ except for rare occasions.

_“Good evening_ ,” Prince Harry crooned to the crowd. His tenor voice seemed to draw a sigh from Ginny, making Hermione and Fred snort. “ _With the coming of my twentieth birthday this summer, it leaves me realizing that not only will I be inheriting the crown in a few short years, but that it’s about time I take a break to try and find the woman of my dreams and your future queen. So, with that being said, I am very excited to announce Hogwarts’ fourth Drawing_.”

The crowd began to cheer as both Molly and Ginny ‘ooh’d’ and ‘aww’d’ at the thought of such an event. Even Hermione felt herself somewhat intrigued. From what she understood, the Drawing was an event where a number of girls were drawn from a lottery all across the kingdom. The selected girls would live in the palace for a certain amount of time while each being courted by the prince until he decided on a girl he wanted to marry. Queen Lily had been the last winner of the Drawing and was universally loved throughout the kingdom.

Prince Harry’s chuckle managed to calm things down. “ _I’m happy everyone is as excited about this as I am_ ,” he said. “ _This Drawing, however, will be a little different from past Drawings._

_“This year, we will be drawing sixteen names from the lottery and select_ _four girls from each province. Anyone between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one are eligible and I encourage everyone to apply. And I mean_ everyone _. Caste does not matter this Drawing_.”

“WHAT!” Ginny screeched, jumping up.

The crowd from the broadcast erupted into even louder cheers as Ginny pranced around the living area, giving her mother the widest doe eyes she could muster. “Can I apply, Mum? Please? _Please?_ ”

Fred groaned beside Hermione, “She’s not going to shut up about this now.”

Hermione grimaced, feeling sorry for the Weasley family for the upcoming weeks. If Ginny had been annoying for just a couple hours at the _possibility_ of having a caste-less ball, this Drawing would be a trying period for all the Weasley men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for stopping to read my story! I started this a couple of years back and posted it on fanfiction.net. It's recently been going through some major changes and I decided to post on ao3 as well. I hope you guys enjoy!


	2. Chapter Two

**The Drawing**

**Chapter Two**

Over the next couple of days, the Drawing was all Hermione heard people talk about. The older generations were reminiscing watching King James during his Drawing and how they knew from the first day that Queen Lily would be the one for him. The younger generations were impatiently counting down the days until the lottery was made on the _Hogwarts Express_ and hoping and praying that they would be one of the girls chosen. Hermione really couldn’t be bothered by the whole ordeal. Yes, she was excited to see how the Drawing progressed, but she was more excited about witnessing history being made rather than a gaggle of girls fight and claw their way into Prince Harry’s heart.

“Ginny will not stop talking about the application,” Molly lamented. She and Hermione were walking home from work Sunday evening after a ten-hour day and both of them were exhausted. “It’s Drawing this, Drawing that – are we _sure_ the royal family knows there is a girl of eligible age at our house so we can get an application? I’m pretty sure they do, they send those damn guards every month to check on us.”

Hermione snorted at Molly’s dry tone, shaking her head at Ginny’s antics. “Do you think they’ll follow through with all castes being welcome?” she asked. A lot of people seemed pleased with the new addition to the Drawing since the previous ones were only available to Fours and up, but Hermione knew there were plenty of people who were saying it was just a publicity stunt.

“I think so,” Molly replied thoughtfully. “The king and queen have always kept their word so I don’t see why they’d lie about something this big.”

Hermione wanted to point out that it was Prince Harry who had said they would overlook the castes and not the king or queen, but decided against it. As much as Molly complained about Ginny over the past couple of days, Hermione could tell she genuinely hoped her daughter would be one of the sixteen girls selected.

“Either way, the application should be here tomorrow so we’ll fill it out after work and take it to the post office. It’ll be out of our control after that.” Molly ran a hand through her hair before looking over at Hermione with a sly smile. “Will _you_ be applying?”

“Me?” Hermione barked out a laugh. “No, no, no… can you really see _me_ vying for Prince Harry?”

“Well, no,” Molly admitted, making Hermione laugh again. “But I do know you’re a romantic at heart.”

“So I read romance stories.” Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the flush she knew was on her cheeks.  “It’s one of the few things we _are_ allowed to read. And besides, there’s no way I could apply. If I were picked, there would be no extra income and with Dad sick and Mom… well, they’d become Sixes and I could never do that to them.”

“You do know the families are given a weekly allowance for as long as the girls stay at the palace, right?” Molly pointed out.

“What?”

Molly nodded. “It wasn’t mentioned in the broadcast but I’m sure it will be somewhere on the application form. Every Drawing always has some sort of stipend while the girls are there because they know having the girls leave for so long can affect their families. Of course, the money was never really _needed_ , but I don’t see them changing that rule.”

Hermione hummed in thought. Having the extra money would be a great thing to have, especially since it seemed her father’s medical bills kept increasing. But she would be one girl out of thousands applying. What were the chances of her being picked?

Hermione immediately slammed the door to that thought. Was she _actually_ considering applying? She shook her head, berating herself for allowing Molly to get her swept away in the idea of it all.  The _idea_ of the Drawing was very romantic in a fairy tale sense but she was sure the reality was probably anything but.

“Doesn’t it feel wrong to want your daughter to go after the prince?” Hermione asked, glancing over at the older woman. “I’ve heard conversations between mothers that sound like they’re giving their daughters _seduction_ advice.”

“A part of me feels like it’s wrong,” Molly agreed after a moment’s pause. “Ginny _is_ my baby, after all. But it’s just… always been done this way. Not only that, but the outcome of the Drawing would be so good for her. Even if she isn’t picked by Prince Harry, she’d become a Two afterwards. She’d have _choices_.”

Molly gave a sigh and a faraway expression came over her. “Arthur and I made our choices long ago that got us sent to Five and I do not regret that, but I _do_ regret that our children were born into this caste. They don’t deserve this type of life so if Ginny can make it to the Drawing and has a chance to become a One or Two, then yes by all means she should go for it. Percy and Ron have done well, so why can’t she?”

“I can understand that,” Hermione said slowly.

Molly nodded but remained silent. Hermione glanced sideways and saw that she was looking at the ground as they walked, a slight frown marring her features. “I’m sorry for bringing the caste thing up,” she said softly, knowing that’s what Molly was thinking about.

“Don’t be sorry, dear,” Molly said, wrapping a loving arm around her shoulder. Hermione reveled in the touch before Molly withdrew. “I was the one that brought it up. It’s just hard sometimes.”

Hermione nodded, understanding completely. She thought back to the stack of textbooks she was forced to keep hidden in her room.  They walked in companionable silence for a while when an idea suddenly came to Hermione. “I think I’m going to visit dad this weekend,” she announced.

Molly’s eyebrows shot up and she grinned. “You should,” she said enthusiastically, her mood brightening. “What brought this on?”

Hermione shrugged, “I feel like I should go visit him. I haven’t seen him in almost three months because I’ve been working so much.”

“And I told you as horrible as Mrs. Pince can be she would give you the time off,” Molly sang.

“Yes, yes,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. She stepped in front of Molly and went into the deepest curtsy she could without losing her balance. Speaking in her most demure voice, she said, “I am ever so sorry for doubting you, Lady Molly, knower of all things.”

Molly laughed, grabbing Hermione and pulling her along the street as people began to stare at them. “Practicing for Prince Harry, are we?”

“What? No that was not what I was –” Hermione cut herself off as Molly laughed harder, glaring at the older woman. She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and stomped down the street, leaving Molly cackling after her.

**[o][o][o]**

Hermione could tell Molly was distracted at work the next day - practically every female was. Letters had started to arrive that morning with applications for the Drawing and Ginny had been one of the first to get hers. Molly almost had to kick Ginny out of the house that morning to go to work she had been so excited.

Hermione was distracted for an entirely different reason. She had gathered up her courage to ask Mrs. Pince for a day off to visit her father and almost didn’t believe her boss when she insisted Hermione take _two_ days off instead. Hermione was sure Mrs. Pince was caught up in the Drawing hype and that was why she was being so generous. Still, she wasn’t going to complain.

Finally, the work day was over and Hermione nearly laughed at the number of girls who practically sprinted out of the mansion as soon as they were dismissed. Molly speed walked the entire way home, saying a quick goodbye to Hermione before scurrying off.

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. She was sure she would hear all about Ginny’s application process tomorrow at work. As she turned down her street, Hermione saw the Creevey boys huddling over something in their front yard.

“Good evening, boys,” she called out. The young boys jumped and spun around, their eyes wide before realizing who had called out to them.

“G’evening, Miss Hermione,” Dennis called out, flashing a too innocent smile her way.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, “Just be careful.”

“We will!” Colin and Dennis waved at her as she passed them and turned back to whatever experiment they were working on.

Hermione unlocked the door to her house and stepped inside, not surprised to see that it was empty. She toed off her shoes and went to step into the sitting room when her socked foot slipped on something. With a squawk, Hermione fought to regain her balance, her arms wind-milling wildly as she hopped off of what she’s slipped on.

“What the hell?” She turned around to glare at the thing that almost tripped her and froze, her eyes zeroing in on the thick envelope lying innocently on the floor.

The Hogwarts seal was the first thing that popped out to her, the coat of arms an intricate meshing of all four provinces that made up the kingdom. Beneath it, in elegant handwriting, was her name.

Hermione bent down to pick up the package, flipping it over to examine it. That was it; the rest of it was a blank envelope. The Hogwarts crest and her name were all that let her know this was the application to the Drawing. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if the higher castes got more of a fancier package. She had a hard time imagining a debutant Two being okay with this simple of packaging for such an elite event.

Hermione walked further into the house, flicking the light switch when she reached the kitchen. The single, low-wattage bulb flickered on after a moment and bathed everything in a slightly yellow hue.  Hermione threw her bag and the Drawing application package onto the rickety kitchen table and sat down with a huff. She leaned back in the kitchen chair, her head rolling back to look up at the many water spots that stained their ceiling. Her eyes closed seconds later; it felt amazing to just sit down. Off in the distance, she could just hear the Creevey boys giggling underneath the hum of the lightbulb.

Hermione straightened up, reluctantly reaching for the package on the table. She opened the stark white envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. Her eyes scanned the first page, nose scrunching as she read.

_To the Loyal Subjects of Gryffindor,_

_It has come to the attention of the Crown that a member of your current household is within the age range to qualify for Hogwarts’ Fourth Drawing. Enclosed is the application required to apply for this highly esteemed event. If you so choose, please fill out all the paperwork and take it to the nearest postal office. The application process will be complete once a picture is taken and sent off to the castle._

_The deadline to turn in your application will by no later than the first Friday of July at noon. The ladies of Hogwarts’ Fourth Drawing will be selected during that evening’s Hogwarts Express. If you are one of the lucky Sixteen to be chosen, your immediate household will be given a weekly stipend as compensation for having a missing family member._

_His Royal Highness Prince Harry James Potter, Heir to the Throne of Hogwarts thanks you for your time. He is excited for the opportunity to meet his future wife – maybe you will be the one!_

The next page was the actual application. At the top of the page there was room for her name, province and caste number, followed by a space that was obviously saved for a picture. A list of questions filled the rest of the paper, each question followed by a blank space for the answer.

_What are your likes?_

_What are your dislikes?_

_In your opinion, what are some of your best qualities? What are some of your worst?_

_List any talents you have._

_Describe what you are looking for in a partner._

_What would be the perfect date?_

That was it. The entirety of the application was six questions. Hermione snorted with disgust and threw the package onto the table. Hogwarts’ future queen would be decided by a random lottery and a handful of generic questions.

Hermione’s stomach growled loudly and she got up, pushing all thoughts of the Drawing out of her mind. She went to the cupboards and began to root through them. They were running low on food – Hermione was always too tired to go to the market after work and her mother had been in the city for a couple days – but there had to be something edible to eat somewhere.

“Hello?”

Hermione turned in surprise at her mother’s voice. The front door slammed shut and seconds later her mother appeared in the kitchen, her arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Mum!” Hermione exclaimed, hurrying over to the older woman and grabbing a few of the bags. She looked pale and tired, with dark circles under her eyes. “I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow.”

Hermione saw her mother’s shoulders stiffen for a second. “I figured I would use my extra days off to help around here,” she replied softly, placing the bags onto the table.

“Okay,” Hermione said slowly. “Is everything okay?”

Her mother turned and smiled weakly at Hermione. She noticed with a start that her mother’s eyes were red and puffy; it looked like she had been crying. “Mum, what’s wrong? Is Dad okay?”

“Your father is fine,” she insisted fiercely, pulling cans of soup out of a bag. “We just had a bit of an argument. Nothing to worry about.”

“An argument?” Hermione stared after her mother as she began to flit around the kitchen, putting things away. Her parents _never_ fought. “What did you fight about?”

Her mother gritted her teeth and closed the fridge door with a snap before she turned to her, “Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Masen gave you a job?”

Thrown off, Hermione could only frown in confusion. “What?”

“Mr. Masen,” she repeated, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “You’ve started working for him _on top_ of working for Mrs. Pince.”

Hermione suddenly felt like she was a child again, knowing that no matter what she said next it would be the wrong thing to say. She licked her lips and shrugged a shoulder. “I thought you knew?”

“Well, I didn’t,” Mrs. Granger snapped. She turned her back to Hermione and continued putting the groceries away.

Hermione was at a loss of what to say. She couldn’t understand why her mother was getting so angry or how it fit in with her parents fighting. Starting to worry, she placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder and forced her to look at her. “Mum, _what_ is going on?”

“Did you know that Mr. Masen visited your father at St. Mungo’s this morning?” Hermione shook her head, not understanding where this was going. “He came to visit because he was _worried_ about you.”

“Worried about me?”

“He told us how hard you’ve been working the past few months,” her mother continued. Hermione’s heart broke when she saw tears start to pool in her eyes. “Not just with him but with Mrs. Pince’s company as well. He said that he could see how tired you were getting and that he knew you haven’t had a day off in months.”

“Well, it’s not like we can afford to take any days off,” Hermione protested weakly. It was now slowly starting to make sense; her parents had fought about _her_. “St. Mungo’s isn’t exactly cheap.” She immediately regretted saying that when she saw her mother’s face fall.

“I am such a horrible mother,” she moaned, putting her face into her hands. “I should have never let you handle all those bills when this first started.”

“What? No! You are not a horrible mother.” Hermione pulled Mrs. Granger to her and hugged her tightly. She could feel her own tears prick her eyes as her mother sniffed into her shoulder. “You were so out of it when Dad had to be admitted that there was no way you would’ve been able do that on your own. And I get it, he’s your husband.”

“But you’re my daughter.”

“I took responsibility of handling the bills because I knew you’d run yourself into the ground if you began to worry about them,” Hermione said firmly, pulling back to look her mother in the eye. “Plus, it gave _me_ something to do to distract myself.” Her mother began to protest again. “Mum, it’s okay. I don’t blame you for taking time off to see Dad.”

“Well the trips into the city won’t be happening as often,” her mother said. She straightened up and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve already spoken with the salon and they’re giving me back my hours.”

Hermione stared at her mother and nodded. She knew this change in her was more than likely caused by her father, but was still pleased to hear this. She didn’t want to voice her relief out loud though, afraid it would set her mother off. Working ten plus hours every day for months really _had_ started to take its toll on Hermione. “I’ll be seeing Dad on Thursday,” she announced, trying to change the subject to something a little brighter. “Mrs. Pince gave me _two_ days off.”

“Your father will be so happy to see you.” Mrs. Granger pulled away from Hermione and turned back to the groceries. Hermione looked away, allowing her mother some time to regain her composure.

Dinner was started once everything had been put away, the two of them working in companionable silence. Hermione was at the stove watching over the potatoes when her mother spoke up, “Hermione, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Hermione turned to see her mother pointing at the scattered papers on the table. “Oh, that came earlier today.”

“Is that the application for the Drawing?” she asked excitedly.

“Sure seems that way.” Hermione grabbed the lid and placed it on the pot, reaching out to turn down the heat.

“What do you say after dinner we work on this together?”

“Mum, I’m not applying for the Drawing.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to, for one thing,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She sat back down at the kitchen table and watched as her mother read through the papers. “Plus, the idea of trying to get to know a guy who is actively dating other women at the same time is not exactly my definition of romantic.”

Hermione’s mother stared at her with wide brown eyes before going back to the application. _She wants me to apply,_ Hermione realized with a start. “You do realize that there’s a one in a million chance of me getting to picked, right? Not that I’m thinking of applying,” Hermione quickly added once she saw her mother’s hopeful look.

“But Hermione,” she protested, pushing the introduction letter towards her. She tapped the sentence that talked about compensation. “Think of how helpful the extra money would be.”

“Yes, the money would be amazingly helpful,” Hermione admitted. “But me going down to the post office and applying doesn’t guarantee that I’ll be picked. It’s a lottery, Mum. People will be picked randomly.”

Her mother got a dreamy look on her face and she sighed. “We could afford to have your father home with us. You wouldn’t have to work as much.”

“Mum,” Hermione began slowly, reaching over and tapping a finger against the application. “ _This_ is a fantasy. We cannot start believing that all of our problems will go away if I apply.”

“But –”

“It would be amazing to be able to bring Dad home, I’m not arguing that. All I’m saying is that getting our hopes up for something that I’m not going to do will just end up hurting us in the long run.”

Her mother sat back in her seat with a huff, looking annoyed. Hermione could feel herself start to get irritated with her mother’s attitude. “Why are you pushing this so hard?”

“Because it could really help us!” Hermione leaned back in surprise at the sudden ferocity of her mother’s tone. “Can you tell me that you’re okay with us living in this shithole? That you’re fine with your father being hours away – _alone –_ while we work ourselves to the bone?”

Hermione’s surprise bled into anger and she stood up, her chair flying backwards from the sudden movement. How _dare_ her mother accuse her of that? Hermione was the one who spent the past couple of months working herself ragged to help pay for their bills while her mother took more and more time off.

“Of course I’m not okay with that!” she growled, slamming her hands down on the kitchen table. A breeze blew through the kitchen. “I would do _anything_ to be able to get Dad back home or for us to have a better life. But I refuse to put everything I have into some stupid, worthless competition that doesn’t even guarantee me anything!”

“You could be picked!” Her mother countered, standing up as well. “There’s a chance –”

“There is no chance!” Hermione shouted. Her mother flinched back. “The Drawing is nothing but a way for an entitled, selfish prince to be able to date multiple girls at once and not have to face the consequences and I will not be a part of that!”

The sound of the pot beginning to boil filled the kitchen as the two women stared at each other, both unwilling to back down. Hermione couldn’t understand what her mother was thinking. Her mother was a rational woman, always telling Hermione to keep her dreams realistic. _This_ was not realistic.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Hermione muttered, glancing away. She suddenly felt exhausted. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

**[o][o][o]**

The morning of Hermione’s trip to visit her father came quickly and she was one of the first ones on the bus. Her knee bounced anxiously as she watched people slowly make their way to their seats. Why were they walking so slow? Clearly the bus was getting ready to leave. _How self centered are these people?_

Finally, everyone was seated and the bus left for the city. Hermione allowed herself to doze on and off; she was exhausted, not being able get a good night’s sleep since the fight with her mother. Every time she closed her eyes, Hermione would see her mother looking at her defiantly. There was something that Hermione wasn’t being told and she was sure it had something to do with her father. Whatever that was, Hermione didn’t know and, if she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t want to find out, either.

As the bus entered the city limits, Hermione sat up in her seat and stretched. She felt slightly more refreshed than she did earlier and now had a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. This would be the first time she would see her father in _months_. How did he look? Did he lose weight? Did he still have all of his hair? What if there were bruises?

The bus reached the depot and Hermione darted up from her seat, pushing past the people that were taking their sweet time getting up. They glared and grumbled but she ignored them – they didn’t matter.

Once off the bus, Hermione took off down the street, dodging in between clusters of people. She turned the corner and froze, eyes widening at the sheer amount of people before her. Apparently, there was a post office on the way to St. Mungo’s although she couldn’t actually _see_ the building. The extremely long line of woman waiting to drop off their application almost wrapped around the block entirely. Setting her shoulders, Hermione continued on down the block. She could feel eyes on her from those that were waiting in line, whispering about how ragged she looked.

“Do you think she’s going to apply?”

“You would think she’d put in a little more effort.”

“ _I_ wouldn’t be caught dead in those clothes!”

Hermione clenched her teeth as she felt her face heat up. She _hated_ coming to the city. At least in their smaller town there was a higher number of Fours and Fives. Here, especially downtown, the upper class came out in droves.

Thankfully, the large green building of St. Mungo’s came into view. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably and she wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. She pulled open the door and stepped inside the hospital.

“Miss Granger!” A pretty young nurse called out pleasantly as Hermione approached her desk. Hermione recognized her as one of the main nurses who had looked after her father when he had first been admitted. “It’s so nice to see you again. We were wondering where you were.”

Hermione ignored the stab of guilt that hit her and gave a weak smile. “I’ve been pretty busy working lots of over time,” she explained. She knew it was a horrible excuse.

The nurse waved her off, smiling kindly and standing up. “Well you’re here now and that’s what matters. Follow me and I’ll show you to Mr. Granger’s new room.”

“How is my father doing?” Hermione asked, quickly walking around the desk and following the nurse as she walked down the hall.

Although the nurse was quick, she wasn’t able to hide the flash of uncertainty that went across her face. “He has his good days and his bad days,” she replied diplomatically. “Lately there have been more good days than bad, which is promising.”

Hermione nodded, unsure of how she should respond. “Is it possible to speak with his doctor sometime today?” she finally asked.

“Of course,” the nurse agreed readily. She stopped outside of a closed door and turned towards Hermione. “I’ll tell the doctor you’re here and he’ll come find you as soon as he can. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Hermione thanked the nurse and pushed the door open. Her father was lying on a hospital bed, his eyes glued to the Telefloo that was situated in the corner of the room. He had lost weight, too much weight, Hermione noticed. His skin took on a sickly hue and his face was gaunt. Tears sprang into Hermione’s eyes and she released a shaky breath, alerting her father of her presence.  

His brown eyes widened as his head turned, giving Hermione a beautiful smile, “Hey Princess!”

In that moment, Hermione became a little girl again and ran to her father’s side, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry it’s been so long, Daddy,” she whispered into his neck. “I am _so_ sorry.”

Her father shushed Hermione, his arms surprisingly strong around her. Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, he sighed, “Don’t worry about it, love. I’ve been told how hard you’ve been working lately.”

“Still,” Hermione protested.

“Still nothing,” her father cut her off. “I am _so_ proud of you and if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. You shouldn’t have to work this hard because of me.”

Hermione shook her head, wiping away the stray tear that slid down her cheek. “You know I won’t stop working until you’re home.”

Her father pursed his lips but instead of arguing, pulled her into his side. Hermione snuggled into him, sniffling. “So,” he began, “tell me what I’ve been missing.”

“Not much.” Hermione drew circles on her father’s blanket with her finger. “You know that I’ve been working with Mrs. Pince and Mr. Masen.”

Her father let out a grunt that made it clear he wasn’t happy with that.

“Ron got a permanent job with Oliver Wood,” she continued quickly, not wanting to ruin his mood.

“Really?” Her father perked up at this news. “Good for him.”

“Yeah, Molly is really proud of him.”

They fell into an awkward silence. Hermione sighed, shifting so her head was resting against her father’s shoulder. “I…” Hermione cleared her throat and licked her lips. “The application for the Drawing arrived for me earlier this week.”

“Did it, now,” her father replied. He kept his tone even, not giving away how he felt about that. It made Hermione uneasy.

“Mum wants me to apply,” she said quietly. Again, the look her mother gave her flashed through her mind. “She thinks that there’s a… chance.”

Hermione pulled back from her father and stared at him, trying to see if she could see anything in his expression. He just seemed tired. “What do you think?” she asked.

Her father didn’t respond right away, his eyes drinking in Hermione. Finally, he sighed. “I think that Hogwarts would be lucky to have you as their queen.”

“Daddy.” Hermione couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from her as she rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Do you think I should apply?” she pressed. She really didn’t want to, but if her father thought it was a good idea than maybe Hermione would consider it. “Mum’s been wanting me to try because of the money we would get. What do you think?”

“I don’t think anyone would disagree that the money would be nice,” he said, shifting on his pillows. “But I want you to apply only if _you_ want to. Don’t worry about the money or what your mum wants – if you want it than go for it.”

Hermione smiled at her father but couldn’t ignore a nagging feeling in her gut. That answer felt forced to her; it felt wrong. She decided to let it go and snuggled back into her father’s side. He grabbed the Telefloo remote. “When I get out of here we’re buying one of these,” he insisted. “Money be damned.”

Hermione giggled.

Over the next hour, she and her father curled up together on the small bed and watched different programmes. Her father flipped through the different channels, explaining to her the plots and purposes of all the different shows. Eventually, they settled on something her father called a ‘sitcom’ and within minutes, his breathing evened out.

Hermione slowly sat up and looked down at her father. He looked like he had aged almost ten years and his once thick, brown hair that was so much like Hermione’s was now dull and wispy with streaks of grey running through it.

A knock at the door made Hermione jump. The door opened and an older man poked his head into the room. Hermione recognized him as Doctor Quill, her father’s doctor, and stood up. “Good afternoon, Miss Granger,” he greeted quietly, taking note of the sleeping man behind her. He opened the door. “Do you want to step out into the hall so we don’t wake him?”

Hermione nodded and quickly followed him out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her. “So how has he been, really?” she asked immediately.

Doctor Quill sighed and Hermione watched as a range of emotions flickered across his face. He stayed quiet, seeming to struggle with how to put what he wanted to say. Hermione’s heart began to thud in her chest.

“Your father has a cancerous tumor in his stomach.” Hermione’s breath hitched and her eyes began to water. Cancer? No, that couldn’t be right. The doctor was wrong. Her father just needed more rest and then he’d be able to go home. “It was discovered earlier this week.”

“Earlier this week?” Hermione shook her head. “Why’s my father been in the hospital for so long, then?”

Doctor Quill looked down at his shoes with a disgruntled look on his face. “We’d been having trouble getting the funding for the testing when it came to…” he paused again, his eyes darting around the corridor as he did so, “people from the lower castes.”

Hermione could feel her breathing start to increase. Doctor Quill put a hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry, Miss Granger,” he said. She could tell from the tightness around his eyes that he was being genuine. “I fought to get his tests done when I first suspected it was cancer. But…” He trailed off.

“What do we do now?”

“The tumor is growing and your father is going to need surgery – soon.”

Hermione froze, staring at the doctor in shook. “What are you saying?” she whispered. They couldn’t possibly afford a surgery. “Will my father be okay if he doesn’t get the surgery?”

Doctor Quill had a pained expression and shook his head.

Hermione’s vision blurred and it was suddenly very hard to breath. As she struggled, a hand was placed on her arm and she was herded down the corridor and forced onto a bench. “Miss Granger, I need you to calm down,” Doctor Quill instructed. “Listen to my voice and focus on taking deep breaths.”

It took a couple of moments but Hermione took deep, gasping breaths and slowly was able to breath normally. She blinked, tears running down her cheeks as she looked at Doctor Quill. He was leaning over her, looking concerned. “Thank you,” she gasped.

Doctor Quill nodded and sat down beside her. He produced a napkin and she took it, wiping at her cheeks. “So,” she began. It came out as a squeak and she cleared her throat. “So, where do we go from here?”

Again, a frustrated look went across the doctor’s face. It looked like he was struggling for a minute before he heaved a heavy sigh and looked directly at Hermione. “Miss Granger,” he began seriously, “may I be completely honest with you?”

“Of course,” she immediately replied.

“The surgery is expensive – _very_ expensive, even by Three standards. I’m sorry if this offends you but I’m not going to sugar coat it. A Five will _never_ be able to pay for the surgery. You and your mother affording to pay for your father’s accommodations is a huge feat all on its own, but the surgery would cost at least ten times more than what you’re already paying. And then he would have to have recovery time.”

Tears flooded Hermione’s vision yet again. She felt humiliation, despair, anger.

“I am very sorry, Miss Granger,” Doctor Quill said. “I wish there was more I could do.”

“No, you’ve done a lot,” Hermione replied shakily. Her lip quivered and she tried to not completely break down. “I’m not stupid. I know some doctors would never be this attentive towards my father because of his status. You and your nurses have been so kind and helpful.”

Doctor Quill looked taken back as Hermione spoke. “T-thank you,” he stammered, sounded awed. “There still is so much we can’t do, but you _have_ to believe me when I say we’ve been trying.”

Hermione nodded. They had heard of the doctor’s kindness towards the lower castes just before her father had to be taken to the hospital. It was one of the reasons why they decided to send her father so far away and work so hard pay the ridiculous medical fees. “There wouldn’t happen to be a payment plan or something that could be set up after the surgery?”

Doctor Quill hissed through his teeth and she knew she wasn’t going to like his answer. “We do,” he admitted, “but the plans only extend to Fours and up.”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and again anger chorused through her. In that instant, Hermione completely understood why her mother had pushed so hard for her to apply for the Drawing. It all made sense now. Yes, the chances were not in their favor, but there was still a _chance_.

Doctor Quill stayed with her as she started crying in earnest, grabbing clean tissues for her as she sobbed. Once she was able to compose herself, she managed to ask, “What do you suggest we do now?”

“Right now, I would make sure he is as comfortable as possible. If you believe he would be more comfortable at home then we can discharge him, but I don’t recommend it.”

“No, keep him here,” Hermione sniffed, wiping her nose with the soggy tissue. Another clean one was offered to her and she gave a watery smile. “He’s being cared for the best here. Does he know?”

Doctor Quill nodded sadly, “He knows.”

Hermione felt a fresh onslaught of tears hit her at that information. She bowed her head, trying to keep them at bay. There was one more question she wanted to ask and was absolutely terrified of the answer. But, it had to be asked; she knew that. Licking her lips, she steeled herself, “How long does he have?”

“With the way everything has been progressing, I would say about four months.”

Doctor Quill apologized again but Hermione waved him off. The man was doing everything in his power to make her father as comfortable as possible; she was already in debt to him.

The time came all too soon for Hermione to leave so she could catch her bus. It was hard to leave her father, especially knowing now that he was terminally ill, but she knew she couldn’t afford any hotels in the area. As she hugged her father goodbye and promised she would visit more often, he said nothing about her obviously puffy eyes and bright red nose. A kiss, a thank you to the nurse and doctor, and she was on her way.

Tears flowed freely once Hermione was situated on the bus. She leaned down, resting her forehead against her knees as powerful, silent sobs wracked her body. The raw pain was overwhelming and suffocating to her. Her father was _dying_ and there was _nothing_ she could do to help. What got to her the most was that there were obviously some ways to treat her father, but the caste system prevented the doctor from doing so.

Hermione’s pain slowly grew into anger and she had to restrain herself from kicking the seat in front of her. Her father was a living, breathing person – they _all_ were – but it was a number that they had to identify by.

Hermione’s mind went to the Creevey boys, the youngest – Dennis – in particular. She remembered the day the boy had been caned for stealing a loaf of bread because he was hungry and his parents couldn’t afford to eat that day. She remembered his screams and how she and Molly had to console Mrs. Creevey when she realized she couldn’t afford to take her child to see a doctor. A child, not yet ten, bore terrible scars all because he was a Five.

With renewed resolve, Hermione sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She reached down into her bag and grabbed the small stack of papers that seemed to weigh the bag down. She pulled them out, grabbing the pen she had tossed in as well, and straightened the papers out on her knees.

She began the Drawing application process by writing down her name, that she was from Gryffindor, and was a Five. She stared at the questions, her pen shaking in her hand as she thought about the answers.

Hermione’s mother was waiting for her when she returned home that evening. The guilt that Hermione felt was overwhelming and she rushed into her mother’s waiting arms. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed as they collapsed to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Mum. There’s a chance. I’ll take the chance. I’m so sorry.”

Her mother shushed her, pressing her lips against Hermione’s curly hair. “It’ll be okay,” she reassured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting a little angsty here. It'll get better! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys are awesome! I'm really happy with the response The Drawing has gotten here on ao3!

**The Drawing**

**Chapter Three**

“Oh good, you’re here.”

Ginny yanked Hermione into the house and slammed the door behind her. Hermione would’ve laughed if she wasn’t such a bundle of nerves. She was quickly ushered into the living area where the rest of the Weasley family was waiting, taking a seat next to Ron and giving him a small smile.  Ginny began pacing in front of the radio, wringing her hands anxiously. Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow and rolled his eyes at his sister. On a regular day, Hermione would’ve joined in on the ribbing of Ginny. But tonight, Hermione couldn’t blame Ginny for her nervous pacing, nor could she blame Molly for her non-stop chattering.

After all, tonight was the night the Ladies of the Drawing would be picked.

Hermione desperately wished that her mother could be there with her. Unfortunately, she had to work that night. Since so many of the salon’s employees had applied for the Drawing, there was to be a huge party for everyone who worked there. And, because the salon already had a bunch of Fives working for them, they decided to forgo hiring more Fives and just used the ones they had on staff. The salon also had a Telefloo so Hermione’s mother would be one of the lucky few Fives to be able to _watch_ the broadcast.

“-right, Hermione?”

“Huh?”

Hermione turned and saw Ron looking at her with an annoyed expression. “Really?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t think _you_ ’ _d_ go all crazy over this stupid thing.”

“ _Ronald_ ,” Molly chastised at the same time as Ginny trilled, “It’s _not_ stupid!”

“What?” Ron asked defensively.

“How can you be so _insensitive_?” George piped up, sounding appalled.

Fred placed a hand over his chest, giving his younger brother an incredulous glare, “This is _the Drawing!_ ”

“Knock it off,” Molly snapped, giving her sons hard looks. “This is important to both Ginny and Hermione.”

Hermione shot a grateful look to her friend as Ron scoffed again. Although Hermione didn’t tell Molly much about her visit with her father, the older woman seemed to intuitively know what was going on. Instead of coddling Hermione like she had been afraid of, Molly didn’t say anything on the matter but became fiercely protective of her whenever someone commented that entering the Drawing was uncharacteristic of Hermione.

Ginny gave her brothers a scathing look and continued her pacing around the room. Hermione stared at the ancient clock on the wall, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

Ten minutes.

Five minutes.

The closer the large hand got to the top of the hour, the more Hermione began to panic. She _needed_ this. It wasn’t like Ginny’s situation where she would be fine if she wasn’t selected. This was her last chance to save her father. If she wasn’t picked, her father’s fate was sealed.

At that thought, tears pricked at Hermione’s eyes and her breath hitched.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked quietly, hearing the shift in Hermione’s breathing.

“I – uh, yeah,” she replied shakily, swallowing hard. “I’m just… I just _really_ want this.”

Ron frowned and opened his mouth only to shut it quickly, glancing fearfully at his mother. He turned back to Hermione and stared at her with an intense expression. Finally, Ron nodded as if he came to some sort of conclusion and said softly, “I hope you get it, then.”

Hermione smiled at him and exhaled loudly, glancing again at the clock.

One minute.

Thirty seconds.

Ginny’s squeal made Hermione jump as the _Hogwarts Express’s_ opening jingle began to play.

“ _Gooooood evening ladies and gentlemen!”_ Lee Jordan cried out. There must have been a larger crowd than usual because his greeting was drowned out by cheers. He laughed merrily although it sounded slightly eerie thanks to the static of the Wireless. “ _Oh, I love this! The energy, the anticipation! Oooh, I’m getting excited.”_

Again, the crowd went nuts. Ginny was practically vibrating as she waved her hand in an impatient manner. “Get on with it.”

Molly shushed her.

“ _Are you ready to witness history being made tonight?_ ” Lee asked. Hermione felt herself begin to sweat. “ _Now before we get to the main event, I was thinking it’d be nice for Prince Harry if his father gave him some words of wisdom.”_

There was more cheering. Hermione’s hands became so clammy she had to wipe them off on her pants.

“ _Yes, put me on the spot_ ,” King James replied dryly. There was laughter. He cleared his throat and there was a pause. “ _I know how scary this is for you, son. I was terrified when I began my Drawing but it soon became one of the_ best _experiences of my life. My advice is to trust your gut. Don’t over think things. If it feels right, then it is. People told me your mother wouldn’t be the right fit as Hogwarts’ queen, but I trusted my gut instinct and I have never regretted a single day since marrying your mother._ ”

The crowd sighed. “Oh, I remember that,” Molly said, smiling softly. “It was _so_ romantic.”

George mock gagged and had a crumpled-up piece of paper thrown at him.

“ _Alright, let’s start this!_ ” Lee announced and again the cheers overpowered his voice. “ _As you can see our set up is a bit different from usual. Each of these bowls contains the applications of many lovely women from each province. Prince Harry, all you have to do is select four envelopes from each bowl and read them out. Easy peasy. Who will we be starting with?_ ”

“ _Let’s start with…”_ Prince Harry began. He sounded nervous. Hermione felt her knee begin to bounce. “ _The province of Hufflepuff._ ”

There was more cheering and a drumroll built up the tension. After a pause, Prince Harry announced, “ _Miss Hannah Abbott – Three._ ”

After the applause died down, the drumroll began again. “ _Miss Parvati Patil – Three._ ”

Hermione exhaled shakily. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go through with this anymore.

_“Miss Susan Bones – Four_.”

She was insane for thinking this was a good idea.

_“Miss Angelina Johnson – Three.”_

“ _And that makes up our Hufflepuff drawings_ ,” Lee called out over the applause, “ _Next province, Your Highness?”_

“ _Let’s go with Gryffindor._ ”

Hermione felt physically ill as the drumroll began. Ginny bounced on the balls of her feet and glared at the radio, her brow scrunched up. No one spoke and Fred even leaned forward in anticipation.

“ _Miss Cho Chang –_ _Three._ ”

Hermione managed a small look with Molly. They mainly worked over at the Chang residence but never had to interact with her. Hermione was glad for that – the Fives that had the _pleasure_ of working with Cho Chang had nothing nice to say.

_“Miss Katie Bell – Three_.”

Hermione’s eyes began to dart around the room, looking for a garbage bin. She really was going to be sick.

_“Miss Hermione Granger – Five_.” Prince Harry sounded pleasantly surprised as he called out her name.

The Weasleys reacted immediately, Molly jumping up and rushing to Hermione, screaming the entire way. She pulled the young woman into a bone crushing hug as tears of relief poured from Hermione’s eyes. Ron was shaking her arm and chanting, “You got it! You got it!”

Hermione couldn’t believe her luck. Her entire body was shaking in Molly’s hug. She had been chosen. _She had been chosen._

Her father had a chance.

“Quiet!” Ginny shouted. “There’s still one more girl to be picked.”

Hermione saw Molly purse her lips at her daughter’s outburst. She leaned against her and closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. At this point, she couldn’t care less who else was picked.

Prince Harry chuckled, “ _Miss Ginny Weasley –_ _Five_.”

Molly screamed right into Hermione’s ear.

The rest of that night passed in a blur. Hermione’s mother came screaming into the Weasley household, practically body checking Charlie out of her way in her haste to get to her daughter. There was food and Bill had somehow managed to get a hold of some Firewhiskey. Neighbours came flooding to both the Weasley and the Granger residences, all of them completely ecstatic that not only did two Fives get into the Drawing, but Fives that had grown up together.

Hermione woke up the next day just before noon, her head throbbing from the Firewhiskey she’d had the night before. She groaned, rubbing her face as her stomach rolled unpleasantly. As the haze of sleep went away, she became aware of the low sound of conversation coming from within her house. She frowned, pulling herself out of bed and went to go investigate the noise.

Hermione followed the voices and was surprised to see her mother wasn’t alone in the kitchen. An impeccably dressed woman in a red pantsuit and perfectly styled hair looked completely out of place in their dingy little kitchen. Hermione’s mother seemed enthusiastic as they spoke while the mystery woman’s sharp blue eyes kept darting around the room.

“Oh, Hermione!” Her mother jumped up once she’d spotted her and ushered her over to the table. “I was just about to wake you up. You have a visitor.”

That much was obvious but Hermione managed to bite back her retort and looked towards the woman. She quickly stood up from her chair and brushed out non-existent creases from her pantsuit.

“Lady Hermione,” she greeted, “let me be one of the first to congratulate you for getting into the Drawing.” The woman’s tone was all business. Hermione couldn’t tell if the woman was genuine or not – she was guessing the latter. “My name is Amelia Bones. I am one of the overseers for this Drawing and have been sent to go over some of legal aspects before you are to arrive at the castle.”

“Oh.” Hermione blinked. Of course they would send someone to do that sort of thing. She couldn’t imagine the type of security risk the castle would be facing by having so many new people arriving there. “Of course. Before that, do you mind if I quickly change?”

Amelia’s eyes darted over Hermione’s frame before offering a professional smile. “Not at all, Lady Hermione.”

Hermione sprinted back to her room and tore off her pyjamas. She grabbed the nicest pair of capris and shirt she owned and quickly threw them on. After brushing her teeth in record time, Hermione was seated at the small table in between her mother and Amelia.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Amelia pulled a briefcase onto the table and opened it with a satisfying click, grabbing two folders and sliding one across to Hermione. She picked it up and opened it, looking at the very legal looking documents inside. “Don’t worry about having to read all of those on your own, I will be going through them so you understand your duties. You’ll be signing two copies, one for your records and one for ours.”

Hermione nodded, starting to feel overwhelmed as her head pounded painfully.

“The first thing you have to understand is that while the Drawing is a very public event, you are not to speak of anything we discuss here with anyone outside of this room. This includes other Ladies of the Drawing.” Amelia paused, giving a hard look at both Hermione and her mother. They both nodded their consent. “You are a bit of a special circumstance since you have a prior relationship with one of the other ladies. Still, these rules must be in effect at all times. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered.

Amelia reached into her briefcase and pulled out two large jars. “You need to understand that by being a part of the Drawing, you are agreeing that the Crown has rights over your body. That means that you have a duty to be healthy and in fit condition at all times during the Drawing. A more decisive plan will be put into place after your doctor’s appointment today, but starting now you will make sure to take these vitamins and supplements once a day, every day.”

Hermione stared at the jars as Amelia slid them across the table, her mouth popping open. Oh dear lord, what had she gotten herself into?

“That’s the first page,” Amelia pointed out, producing a pen. “Sign at the bottom and we can continue.”

Hermione glanced at her mother, who gave her a reassuring nod, and signed her name on the dotted line.

“Next,” Amelia continued, “is probably one of the most important things. The document in front of you explains that you will not harm or sabotage any of the other ladies during the Drawing. If it is found that you have had any part in a lady being hurt or sabotaged you will be eliminated immediately.

“On the subject of elimination, while you are at the castle you will be there for Prince Harry and Prince Harry alone. Starting any relations with someone else is grounds for immediate expulsion and punishment.”

“Punishment?” Hermione asked, her eyes going wide. “What type of punishment? And why?”

Amelia’s eyes hardened and she stared Hermione down. Hermione fought to not fidget under the stern woman’s piercing gaze. “The act of a Lady of the Drawing being in a relationship with anyone other than the prince is seen as treason and will be tried accordingly.”

Hermione felt herself pale. Her mother audibly swallowed. Not that she planned on being in a relationship with anyone at the palace – she didn’t even _want_ to be in a relationship with the prince – but Hermione felt that was an extremely harsh and unfair punishment.

Amelia cleared her throat, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her as she continued, “Please sign at the bottom of the page so we can continue.”

Hermione hesitated for a brief moment before she quickly signed her name.

“Lastly,” Amelia said, flipping to the final document, “is the non-disclosure agreement. The other documents have briefly touched on this but this is the formal agreement. You are not allowed to talk about anything you’ve learned about any of the royal family, any secrets that you may have stumbled across, or the process leading up to the Drawing with anyone. Not the ladies, not the press, no one. Failure to do so will be grounds for expulsion and a fine.”

It blew Hermione’s mind that leaking _secrets_ of the royal family had a lesser punishment than being caught with someone other than the prince. How horrible of a person was Prince Harry that they had to have all of these rules? Were these rules always for the Drawing? Hermione supposed she would never know.

Hermione signed her name on the final document and that was that. Hermione’s mother took the folder and jars of vitamins and put them away as Amelia snapped her briefcase shut.

“Any questions?” she asked.

“How long will the Drawing last for?” her mother asked.

“The Drawing will last until Prince Harry choses a wife. It could take a couple of months or a year.”

Hermione’s eyes bugged at the thought. “I have to be at the castle for that long?” she squeaked.

Amelia’s eyebrow raised delicately at Hermione’s outburst. “You will be at the castle for as long as the prince wishes.” Hermione bristled at her superior tone. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I highly doubt the Drawing will take years.”

Hermione grumbled under her breath. Amelia was starting to get up when she suddenly thought of another question. “Um, the weekly stipend that had been mentioned?”

Amelia held up her hand and Hermione stopped talking. “The check will be delivered in a week,” she said.

“And my work?”

“What work?” Amelia scoffed. Hermione frowned. “I took the liberty of speaking to your bosses and telling them you’ll no longer be employed.”

“You did what?” Hermione cried. She could only imagine how Mrs. Pince reacted to that. She winced, feeling sorry for the others working for her.

“Oh, relax.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “The official helping with Lady Ginny did the same. The two of you will be much too busy to be _working_ before leaving for the castle.”

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glowered at the pristine woman in front of her, her defenses up at her smug tone. Her mother looked anxiously between the two of them. “Hermione, love, I have to leave for work soon,” she said, eyeing Amelia warily. “But I can stay if you want me to…”

“It’ll be fine,” Hermione replied reluctantly. Her mother nodded. “I’ll see you when you get home?”

Her mother nodded, gave a timid smile to Amelia and quickly left.  

Amelia looked at her wristwatch and sighed. “Well you’ll just have to go to the city like that - we don’t have time for you to change.” Hermione glanced down at her clothes; she thought she looked nice. Amelia pulled out a wooden block from her bag and held it out.

Hermione stared at the block, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Amelia jostled it and said, “Grab onto it, we only have a minute left.”

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, hesitantly reaching out and grasping the block. She felt foolish holding onto it and wondered if this was some prank Amelia had decided to play on her. Before she could open her mouth to voice that thought, the room suddenly began to spin violently and Hermione felt a tug come from her stomach. The next thing she knew, she was skidding across the floor of what looked like some sort of office.

Amelia didn’t stumble at all and walked over to a large basket filled with random objects, dropping the wooden block into it. She glanced at Hermione. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Hermione responded. She got up from the floor shakily, brushing herself off. The shock of being moved so suddenly was beginning to wear off and a small sense of accomplishment replaced it. She had used a magical object and it was done _legally!_

Amelia opened the door and walked out of the room, beckoning Hermione to follow her. She hurried after the older woman and noticed with a start that they were now in the reception area of St. Mungo’s hospital.

“What are we doing here?”

“It’s time for your doctor’s appointment,” Amelia said. “I mentioned it before?”

“Oh. Right.” Hermione frowned. She bit her lip and glanced over at the other woman. “Do you think there would be time to visit my father? He’s here in the hospital and…” she trailed off.

Amelia sighed. “I don’t want to get your hopes up,” she said, her expression softening slightly. “We have a lot to do and not enough time to do it. The best I can say is maybe.”

Hermione’s face fell and she looked down at the floor, nodding glumly. Amelia coughed awkwardly and beckoned her to follow.

“Miss Granger!” The head nurse bolted up from her desk and rushed over to the couple as they approached. She looked like she was restraining herself from grabbing hold of Hermione as she gushed, “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it! Congratulations!”

“Um, thanks.” Hermione felt herself flush. A hush fell over the room as people turned to look at them.

Amelia cleared her throat. “I believe we set up an appointment for Lady Hermione earlier…?”

The nurse turned a pretty shade of pink and sputtered out an apology, hurrying back to her desk. She picked up a file. “Yes, you did. Doctor Gustoff was called away for an emergency so it may take a little longer than you expected.”

“Can I see Doctor Quill instead?” Hermione blurted out. Amelia looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “He’s been amazing with my father. I trust him.”

Amelia looked like she wanted to argue but instead nodded reluctantly, “Fine, only if he’s quick about it.”

Five minutes later Hermione was sitting in an exam room, glancing around at the different medical posters on the wall. It was so difficult not to just sprint down to where she knew her father was resting but she didn’t want to test Amelia’s patience. She’d just have to go another day now that she didn’t have to work.

There was a knock at the door and Doctor Quill walked into the room, a huge smile on his face. “I can’t believe it,” he said in greeting, walking to the chair in front of Hermione and sitting down. “You, my dear, are one lucky woman.”

“I can’t believe it, either,” Hermione replied with a shaky laugh. “This all feels like some sort of dream.”

“Well, congratulations either way.”

Hermione nodded and licked her lips. “About Dad’s surgery – I won’t be able to pay for it right away but…”

Doctor Quill smiled softly and patted her knee. “I’ll put him on the list as soon as we’re finished here,” he promised.

“Thank you,” Hermione breathed.

Doctor Quill smiled at her and began to flip through her chart. “Let’s get started on this, shall we?” he said. “I understand you’re under a tight schedule.”

Doctor Quill finished the examination and concluded that Hermione was as healthy as someone from Five could be. With that bit of knowledge, he sent her on her way, promising to stop into her father’s room to share the good news with him.

Amelia stood up when she saw Hermione return, tossing the magazine she was reading onto the table. “Everything good?” she asked.

“Doctor Quill said I’m a bit underweight but otherwise healthy,” Hermione reported.

“As I thought,” Amelia nodded to herself. She motioned for Hermione to follow her as they left the hospital. “The results will be sent to our healers and a plan will be put into place for you.

“What’s next, then?” Hermione asked, having to hurry to keep up with her.

“The spa is next. The rest of the afternoon will be getting you prepared for the makeover next week. Then, if we have time, we’ll get you some newer clothes that you can be photographed in.”

“Wait – makeover?” Hermione asked incredulously. “What if I don’t want a makeover?”

“That’s not really your decision,” Amelia shrugged. “Remember that you signed a contractual agreement stating that the Crown owns your body. Personal hygiene falls under that category. Not to mention you’ll be in the public eye for _months_ , having your picture taken, being filmed for the _Hogwarts Express_ , and you’ll be meeting some very influential – and powerful – people. We can’t have you looking like a Five, now can we?”

“But I _am_ a Five.”

Amelia turned and smiled at Hermione, although the smile looked more threatening than comforting. “Not anymore,” she pointed out. “You are, as of today, a Two.”

Once they reached the spa, Hermione was whisked away by three ladies. Amelia trailed after them, watching with cool eyes as Hermione was buffed, waxed, and plucked within an inch of her life. Every so often she’d interject before a spa technician did something that she didn’t agree with.

“No, no. Don’t put any nail polish on.”

“She’s to have _perfect_ skin.”

“I want her eyebrows to be defined but leave us enough to work with next week for the final look.”

“Leave her hair for now, I guess.”

Finally, after what seemed like _hours_ of torture, Hermione was placed in front of a mirror. She could admit that she looked more put together than she had before; although parts of her skin were bright red from the waxing and plucking she had to endure.

“Well, it’s a start,” Amelia said, nodding. She turned to the spa technicians and thanked them.

Hermione grit her teeth. Her patience for the woman was running thin thanks to the thinly veiled insults Amelia shot at her throughout the entire afternoon. She forced herself to say nothing. It wouldn’t do any good for her father if she lost her temper and got kicked out of the Drawing before it even began.

_Just remember, this is all for Dad. You can do this, Hermione_.

The sun was just starting to set when Hermione and Amelia left the spa. Amelia sighed, glancing at her wristwatch. “We have time for maybe one shop,” she announced, turning around and walking away without making sure Hermione followed.

Hermione was led to a street filled with boutiques and followed Amelia into the first one. The bell jingled above the door merrily and a peppy looking young woman appeared at their side.

“Good afternoon,” she chirped. Her high-pitched voice grated on Hermione but she forced herself to smile. “How can I help you today?”

“We just need a few outfits for her – something plain yet classy.”

The young woman nodded and turned to look at Hermione. She stared at her for a few seconds and then her eyes went wide with recognition. “You’re Hermione Granger!” she all but squealed.

Hermione flinched at the pitch of her voice but nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“My name is Beth and it’s _so_ nice to meet you.” Beth grabbed Hermione’s hand and shook it eagerly. She dropped her hand and sprinted off to the racks of clothing, pulling out different articles.

Hermione stared at Beth, not sure how to act towards the young woman. Beside her, Amelia smirked. “Get used to it,” she muttered quietly. “You’re a celebrity now.”

Beth pulled Hermione into a change room and shoved the clothes at her, instructing her to put on the outfits and come out. Hermione put on the first dress, scrunching her nose up at the length of the skirt (it barely reached her thigh), and walked out.

“Absolutely not,” Amelia said immediately and for once, Hermione was grateful for the pushy woman’s input.

The next hour went on the in a similar fashion. Beth had brought Hermione many different outfits and most of them were vetoed almost as soon as Hermione stepped out of the change room. Amelia did decide on three outfits and they were soon paid for and out the door.

“This isn’t coming out of my stipend, is it?” Hermione asked.

Amelia looked almost insulted at Hermione’s question and scoffed, “Of course not – all this is provided by the royal family.”

Hermione nodded and followed Amelia down the street. She noticed a sleek, black car waiting at the end of the block and frowned once she realized Amelia was headed straight for it. “We aren’t taking a portkey back?”

“I didn’t know how long this afternoon would take,” Amelia said. A man jumped out of the car, dressed smartly in a black suit, and took the bags from Hermione. “We’ll be driving back tonight.”

“Oh.” Hermione fought the disappointment that swelled in her. She wanted to experience magic again. The man put the bags into the boot of the car and then ran around to the side, opening the door for them.

Amelia got into the car and Hermione followed after her. She’d never been in a car before and was slightly surprised at the amount of room they had in the back seat. She watched Amelia put on her seatbelt and quickly did the same. The driver got back into the car and drove off.

“You’re lucky we found everything you needed at that one shop,” Amelia commented idly.

Hermione nodded, extremely thankful. That afternoon was an experience she _never_ wanted to go through again. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said, frowning at Hermione. “You’ll have someone with you every day. If it’s not me, it’ll be either Peter or Severus. We only have five days to get you somewhat ready.”

“Is there really _that_ much work I have to do before I leave?” Hermione asked dubiously

 “I don’t think you understand the disadvantage you have right now,” Amelia said.

 “What do you mean?”

“You have had to serve people your entire life. You’ve been pushed to the side, taught not to draw attention to yourself, and let others take the spotlight for things you may have accomplished. Am I wrong?”

Hermione didn’t respond and just stared at Amelia.

“That _can’t_ happen when the Drawing begins. Those girls are out for blood and will sense your weakness within _seconds_.” Amelia snapped her fingers. “They’ll make your life a living hell.”

“So, all of those little jabs you took at me today were just to prepare me for that?” Hermione scoffed.

Amelia looked like she wanted to argue with Hermione but instead closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. “If you don’t understand how the higher castes are supposed to act, you’ll be gone within the first week,” she said, sounding like she was forcing herself to stay calm. “How are you going to pay for your father’s surgery then?”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she stared opened mouthed at the woman. “How did you – ”

Amelia gave a patronizing smile. “Do you _really_ think the royal family didn’t look into everyone’s background?” she asked condescendingly. “Prince Harry might not know about your father but believe me when I say _all_ of the royal advisors do. It took them no time at all to piece together why you entered.”

Hermione glared at Amelia but didn’t respond. She felt backed into a corner and didn’t know how to proceed.

“Believe it or not, Lady Hermione, I’m trying to help you,” Amelia said in a softer voice. “The lower castes that were chosen are at a severe disadvantage and it just wouldn’t be fair if nothing was done to prepare them. It was decided that anyone under Three would get proper training - a crash course in royal etiquette, if you will.”

“And I suppose all this is under the privacy contract I signed earlier,” Hermione said dryly.

“I knew you were a smart girl,” Amelia smirked. “We just want Fives and Fours to be on the same level as Threes. That way you won’t make any crucial errors. And before you ask, yes, it _is_ a popularity contest,” she said before Hermione could interrupt her. “If you say or do something that is questionable and you’re well-liked by the public, it will be seen as quirky or brave. If you aren’t well-liked, well…” Amelia trailed off and shrugged.

Hermione sat back and digested everything that had been said to her. The Drawing was sounding more and more like a political battle than anything else. She wasn’t sure how to get people to like her – she wasn’t even sure she _wanted_ them to like her. But she had to try.

Amelia produced her wand and waved it, making Hermione jump. A large stack of papers appeared out of thin air and she stared, awestruck at them. Hermione wasn’t privy to watching magic often and she felt a longing to see it again.

“I want you to read these over until you have them memorized,” Amelia instructed, handing over the large stack.

Hermione looked down and saw a small picture of a pretty blonde woman. The name underneath the picture read Hannah Abbott.

“Are these the Drawing applications?” Hermione asked.

“Each girl is given them to study. Some won’t do more than look at the pictures, but I highly recommend you study them. You can tell a lot about these girls from their answers. You know, keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that.”

Hermione nodded and settled in, looking down at Hannah’s picture once again. There was certain innocence about her with her twinkling blue eyes and pink cheeks. As Hermione read through Hannah’s answers to the questionnaire, she noticed that they sounded extremely generic. Hannah loved girly things, disliked gross things, and her idea of a perfect date was a candlelit dinner on a balcony underneath the stars.

Turning the page, Hermione looked at the picture of the next girl, Alicia Spinnet. She didn’t have a beauty by society’s standards, but her brown eyes surrounded by dark, lush eyelashes gave her a striking appearance. In a stark contrast to Hannah, Alicia was tomboyish in her answers and fiercely loyal. Hermione smirked at Alicia’s perfect date; an afternoon spent racing broomsticks.

Hermione turned the page to the next girl, a pretty redheaded woman with an uncertain smile. She frowned as she read the name, “Susan _Bones?_ ”

Amelia jumped at the sudden exclamation, “Excuse me?”

“Your last name is Bones too, right?” Hermione asked, holding up Susan’s picture.

“Yes, it is,” Amelia said, sounding surprised. “Susan is my niece if you must know.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. “Why aren’t you helping her then? She’s a Four, right? Won’t she be getting the ‘crash course’ as well?”

Amelia looked slightly flustered at Hermione’s question. A small part of Hermione felt gleeful as she watched the woman quickly try to compose herself. “I wanted to,” she admitted. “But others thought I would give her an unfair advantage so I was assigned to Gryffindor instead.”

Hermione nodded and went back to staring at Susan’s picture. Amelia’s hostility towards her was a bit clearer now. In Amelia’s eyes, she was helping her niece’s enemy.

Hermione swallowed and sat back, watching as the countryside sped by.

What had she gotten herself into?

**[o][o][o]**

By the end of the week, Hermione was convinced it was Amelia’s main objective to make her life as miserable as possible. The older woman was relentless, spewing all sorts of different facts about the rules and regulations of royal etiquette that Hermione just didn’t care about. She highly doubted she would be ostracized for not knowing the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork, but Amelia thought otherwise.

It took two days until Hermione finally managed to get a grasp on what she was being taught. She was happy it was over; there were only a few days left until she was to go to the palace and surely mastering the materials meant she had time to visit her father.

Oh, how wrong Hermione was.

“It’s one thing to know, but doing is an entirely different game,” Amelia snipped, ignoring Hermione’s groan of protest.

The curtsying was the _worst_. Hermione didn’t think it would be such a hard thing to master; after all she was just bending her knees. However, after an entire afternoon of practicing the motion, she concluded she was absolutely horrid at it. It had been so bad at one point that Amelia lost her temper, throwing her pen down onto the floor and yelling, “You’re supposed to be curtsying, not popping a squat for God’s sake!”

It was to Hermione’s great relief _hours_ later that she had finally mastered the curtsy. She sat down on the couch, her thigh muscles screaming at her, and ran a hand through her hair. Amelia looked pleased and was gathering up her things. “I’ll let you rest for the night,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “But I do want you to go over the applications a couple of times.”

Hermione nodded. She had gone over them so many times she felt like she knew the girls already. But Hermione learned it was best not to argue with what Amelia told her and just go with it.

“Oh, Peter will be here instead of me tomorrow. He’ll be going over revision but he’s a lot harsher than I am, so be prepared.”

Peter was a greasy little man that reminded Hermione of a rat. She had disliked him almost instantly when he arrived at her house and banished her mother from the sitting area, saying that she was a distraction. Hermione could tell he had a lot of self-importance and it didn’t matter how many times Hermione had told him Amelia went over things, he believed the woman had done it wrong and insisted on going over it again _just to make sure_.

Hermione didn’t think she’d ever see the day when she wished Amelia was there.

“Now Lady Hermione,” Peter said, his watery little eyes taking in her appearance. They had finally finished for the day and Hermione wanted nothing more than to get the man out of her house. “There are some… _legal_ details I wish to clarify with you.”

“I thought Amelia went over those earlier.”

“Well, in a way.” Peter’s smile sent a chill down Hermione’s spine. “Now that you are part of the Drawing, you’re considered to be the royal family’s _personal_ property.”

A sense of fear flickered at the base of Hermione’s skull and she straightened up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, my dear girl, if a member of the royal family were to _ask_ anything of you… well, you wouldn’t exactly be allowed to say _no_ , now would you?” Peter gave a slimy smile and dipped his head. “Just thought I’d let you know. Oh. And consider this part of the privacy clause as well. Have a good night, my lady.”

Hermione collapsed onto the sofa as Peter let himself out, her eyes wide and unseeing in front of her. Did Peter mean what she thought he meant? Her pulse quickened and she swallowed hard. Prince Harry didn’t seem like that type of person. He would never try anything like that on her, right?

Hermione wasn’t feeling too sure about the answer.

Amelia noticed Hermione’s darkened mood when she returned the next day. She kept asking Hermione what was wrong but Hermione brushed her off, instead focusing on everything Amelia had taught her. She managed to avoid answering her questions until the final day before Hermione was to leave for the palace.

“If you’re going to act like this all the time you’re not going to stand a chance,” Amelia hissed. “ _What_ is going on in that head of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” Hermione lied quickly. “I’m just worried I’ll forget something or mess up.”

Hermione could tell Amelia didn’t believe her answer. She pursed her lips and frowned at the young woman. “Remember what I’ve been teaching you and you won’t,” she hissed angrily. “But you better shape up or you can say goodbye to the money for your father’s surgery.”

Hermione winced and nodded, looking down at her hands.

“I know there’s a big dinner planned for you and Lady Ginny so you best get ready for it,” Amelia said flatly. “But make sure to get plenty of rest, I’ll be here at eight tomorrow morning and we catch the train at nine.”

Amelia turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming loudly behind her.

“Hermione?” Hermione’s mother asked, entering the room cautiously. Hermione’s lower lip began to quiver but she refused to let the tears fall. She had cried so much within the past couple of weeks and she wouldn’t allow herself to continue. She had to be strong if she was going to do this. “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

Hermione shook her head, allowing a single tear to drop. She quickly wiped it away and stood up. “Just feeling a little overwhelmed,” she answered, allowing her mother to pull her into hug.

“You’re going to be amazing,” her mother whispered loyally, sounding a bit choked up herself, “Prince Harry is going to love you.”

Hermione snorted and pulled away from her mother. “Somehow I doubt that,” she replied. She turned and went into her bedroom to change for what she knew would be the last dinner at the Weasleys for a very long time.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione arrives at the castle and finds that she wasn't quite as ready as she thought she was...

**The Drawing**

**Chapter Four**

Hermione knew she would always remember standing on the train platform with Ginny for the rest of her life, staring out into the sea of people while the mayor droned on with his speech. The excitement in the air was almost palpable, the crowd humming with intensity as they listened to the mayor. Hermione could pick out familiar faces from where she stood. Fours and Fives she had worked with and saw on a regular basis were holding up posters with her and Ginny’s names on them while others had expressions of thinly veiled jealousy.

Ginny had taken to the crowd instantly, smiling and waving out at them from the moment they had been escorted to the platform. It shouldn’t have surprised Hermione – Ginny had always been charismatic – but it did. For some reason, Hermione had thought that Ginny would react to this situation the same way she did, thought that Ginny would be as uncomfortable and awkward as _she_ was. That wasn’t the case. Ginny was radiant and fell into her role seamlessly.

Hermione, on the other hand, felt extremely out of place. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, every time she smiled out to the crowd it felt more like a grimace than anything. The sheer number of people in front of her was absolutely terrifying and she felt like she was going to be sick. Still, Hermione knew she had to try, especially after seeing Amelia’s pointed look. It wasn’t as vibrant or exaggerated as Ginny’s was, but Hermione still managed to smile and wave.

After the mayor concluded his long-winded speech, Amelia announced it was time to say goodbye to their families. Hermione immediately turned into her mother, burying her face into the crook of her neck. “I am so proud of you,” her mother whispered. She pulled back and gazed lovingly at her daughter. “Your father sends his love and said to tell you how proud he is as well.”

Hermione tried to smile but knew it came out forced. She had desperately wanted to see her father one last time before leaving but Amelia’s tight scheduling made it impossible to do so. She had promised Hermione there were phones at the palace she could use to talk to her father. Hermione was going to hold the woman to that.

Hermione’s mother gave one her one last squeeze before letting go of her and hurrying over to Ginny. Molly appeared in front of Hermione and pulled her into one of her bone crushing hugs. “I’m rooting for the both of you,” she said, looking proudly at Hermione. “You and Ginny look beautiful today.”

Hermione glanced down at her outfit. Both she and Ginny were wearing black trousers and a white blouse to wear to the castle. All of the Ladies of the Drawing would be wearing the same outfit, with accessories in the colors that represented their provinces. Hermione had been given a silk red and gold neck scarf. Ginny, a high-waisted red and gold belt.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. Her smile felt more genuine now.

Molly grinned and stepped aside as Ron approached her, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’d hug you but I don’t want Prince Harry thinking you’re cheating on him,” he joked with a grin. Something twisted in Hermione’s gut when she saw that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” she retorted weakly.

“Good luck, Hermione,” he said.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence followed and Hermione was glad when Amelia announced it was time to leave. Hermione’s mother gave her one last hug and then handed her the small suitcase she was bringing with her.

Hermione and Ginny waved one last time to the crowd and then stepped onto the train. They had an entire train car to themselves that was decked out in the red and gold Gryffindor had been known for. Plush sofas and chairs were placed all over and there was even a bar equipped with its very own bartender. A beautiful, ornate table was situated in the middle of the room surrounded by high back chairs.

Hermione quickly dropped her suitcase and hurried to the window, pushing it open. Sticking her upper body out, she waved at her mother and the Weasleys as the train jolted into motion. She gave them a final wave before pulling back into the car.

“I suggest you ladies get some rest while you can,” Amelia stated. She sat down in one of the plush chairs and pulled out a book. “You’ll have a busy day when we arrive.”

“I don’t think I could rest if I tried,” Ginny laughed. She placed her large suitcase by Hermione’s and went to a pair of sofas by a window. Hermione followed the redhead and sat down on the sofa opposite of her, watching as the train began to pick up speed.

They settled into a comfortable silence, content with watching the countryside as the train sped by. Now that all the excitement was, at least for the moment, over with, Hermione was left feeling emotionally drained. Ginny’s eyes were unfocused in front of her as she idly played with the end of her belt.

Almost an hour later, Hermione could see that they were approaching a city. She sat up straighter, leaning into the window to try and see more. The train began to slow down as they hit the city limits and Amelia got up from her chair with a quiet, “Excuse me.”

“Are we there?” The sudden change of momentum snapped Ginny out of her thoughts and she twisted her body to look out the window.

“I don’t think so.” Hermione shook her head. “We shouldn’t be there yet. It’s only been about an hour since we left.”

Hermione felt her eyes widen as the train pulled to a stop at the station. People were _everywhere_. Muffled cheers and the sound of live music filtered in through the closed windows as both Hermione and Ginny pressed themselves against the window for a better look.

“I think we’re picking up someone,” Ginny said. She pointed to where they could just make out Amelia walking across the platform. The crowd parted and a slim looking woman went up to Amelia, waving at the people around her. They spoke briefly and then the two of them began walking back to the train.

A sign out in the crowd caught Hermione’s eye as it twinkled magically.

_Katie Bell for Queen!_

Hermione pulled away from the window, dragging Ginny with her as people started to realize they were in there. She watched in amusement as the redhead took a few deep breaths and smoothed out her trousers. “Do I look okay?” she asked.

Hermione grinned. “Beautiful,” she replied dutifully. Ginny grinned back and reached out, squeezing her hand. They turned and faced the door, waiting for Amelia and Katie to make their appearance.

The car door slid open moments later. Amelia seemed momentarily stunned to see Hermione and Ginny waiting for them. She stepped aside to let Katie in as the train lurched into motion.

Hermione felt Ginny tense up beside her.

“Hi!” Katie greeted. Her brown eyes twinkled excitedly as she rushed forwards, grabbing each of their hands.  Like Hermione, Katie wore the same red and gold neck scarf. “It’s so nice to meet the both of you!”

The genuine sincerity in Katie’s expression took Hermione by surprise and she took an involuntary step back. She wasn’t expecting cattiness and drama right off the bat, but she wasn’t quite expecting Katie’s warm reception, either. Glancing to the side, Hermione could tell from Ginny’s shocked expression she felt the same way.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Hermione finally managed to bring herself to speak. “I’m Hermione and –”

“You’re Ginny, right?” Katie finished, her eyes darting between the two of them.

“Uh, yeah,” Ginny squeaked.

Katie’s eyes went wide once she realized she was still holding their hands and quickly dropped them. Her cheeks went a pretty shade of pink and she took a step back. “Oh. I’m so sorry, I’m being a bit too forward, aren’t I?” She chewed her lip anxiously. “I just got so excited about meeting you two that I forgot myself.”

 “No, not at all!” Ginny said. “I think we just weren’t expecting someone so… nice?”

There was an awkward pause as the three of them stood there, none of them sure what to do or say next. Hermione’s eyes shifted around the car, her eyes falling on Amelia sitting on a sofa in the corner. She was watching the exchange with a neutral expression, a closed book in her lap. The book snapped open when their eyes met and she looked down, not acknowledging Hermione.

Ginny took the lead by gesturing to the large table in the room, going over to it and sitting down. Hermione took a seat across from Ginny, clasping her hands together on the table. They shared a look as Katie sat down next to Ginny. It felt uncomfortable to be sitting down at a table with a Three, even though Amelia was constantly reminding Hermione that she was a Two now. It just didn’t seem _right_.

“So,” Katie began pleasantly. If she could feel the awkward air in the car compartment didn’t show it. “I feel like I know what your likes and dislikes are, but what do you two do?”

“Like… in work?” Ginny asked slowly. Katie nodded eagerly. “I work, used to work, at a hotel.”

Katie’s eyes were wide as she listened to Ginny explain the duties she had at the hotel, nodding every once and a while. Hermione stayed silent, her own eyes darting back and forth as she scrutinized Katie’s face for any hint of sarcasm or the like.  She flipped through the Drawing applications in her mind, trying to recall what she’d read about the young woman in front of her.

Katie Bell was a Three from one of the bigger cities in Gryffindor. Hermione recognized the name being attached to a sporting goods shop that had grown in popularity in the past decade. Her answers for the application were appropriate for that sort of upbringing. She liked doing athletic activities and playing Quidditch but her answers felt to Hermione like she was holding back.

Even now, as Hermione watched Ginny and Katie talk, it was as though Katie was being intentionally vague. She was giving little tidbits about herself but they seemed generic, like she was purposely leaving things out. Ginny didn’t seem to notice this and she kept on talking with an open honesty that Hermione felt to be foolish.

There was a lull in the conversation and Ginny leaned over to where Amelia had been, quietly reading her book. “Amelia,” she called out. “Will we be picking up Cho Chang as well?”

Amelia put her book down and looked slightly uncomfortable. “No,” she said slowly. “Lady Cho’s been on the train this entire time.”

Hermione, Ginny, and Katie looked at each other in confusion. “Why isn’t she here then?” Katie asked.

“Lady Cho requested that she have her own separate car on the way to the castle.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She wished she could say she was surprised at the audacity of that request but after years of hearing horror stories about the Changs from other Fives, she wasn’t. “Is that even allowed?” she asked instead.

“The entire train is just to bring you four to capital. If you wanted, each of you could have multiple cars to yourself.” Amelia looked like she desperately wanted to escape the car and got up, walking towards the door. “In fact, I should probably go check in on Lady Cho.”

Ginny and Katie both looked upset at Amelia’s words as she left. Hermione exhaled loudly and leaned back in her chair. She wasn’t too bothered by this fact; she’d spent the last week preparing for this type of attitude. Ginny, on the other hand, looked angry while Katie looked just sad.

“Come on, you two,” Hermione began. “Don’t let it get to you. Katie, you probably don’t know this but Cho Chang has a bit of a reputation where we are from.”

“She does?” Katie asked quietly.

That seemed to snap Ginny out of whatever funk she’d been in. She began nodding vigorously, leaning forward on the table. “I’ve been lucky to not have to work with her or her family but my mum and Hermione have had to.” Katie’s eyes were now wide as she took in Ginny, seemingly enthralled with her story. “She thinks the world of herself and anyone lower than a Three is beneath her. Don’t let this bother you, Katie. She’s not worth it.”

**[o][o][o]**

It was another hour until Hermione felt the train begin to slow down. She looked up from where she had perched herself on one of the sofas while Ginny and Katie rushed over to the windows.

“Look at all the people!” Ginny gasped. “We haven’t reached the station yet and the streets are packed!”

The curiosity became too much for Hermione and she got up, joining the two of them at the windows. People were lined up by the tracks of the train holding posters and streamers, waving them wildly as the train passed by.

“This is amazing!” Katie laughed, clapping gleefully. “Oh, look! I see my name!”

The door opened and Amelia walked in, followed by a stunningly beautiful Chinese woman. Hermione took a step back from the window, eyeing the new person warily. Cho Chang had a certain type of beauty that would have intimidated Hermione if it weren’t for the ugly scowl she wore. She had the same red and gold high-waisted belt that Ginny had on.

“Look alive, ladies,” Amelia called out. “We’ll be at the station in about five minutes and then off to the castle. There’s a lot to do in very little time so we mustn’t dawdle.”

Amelia excused herself to go talk with the guards. Cho stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest, and not bothering to hide her disdain of being in the same room as the others. Ginny and Katie stepped away from the windows and looked at Cho with open curiosity. Ginny looked like she was getting ready to say something when Katie stepped forward, flipping her shoulder length brown hair over her shoulder as she marched up to Cho.

“Cho Chang!” Katie greeted, her voice taking on an overly sweet tone. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other nervously. “It’s so great to finally meet you! My name is Katie Bell and this is Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

Cho kept her arms crossed over her chest and sneered, her dark eyes darting between the three of them. “Yes,” she responded shortly. “I know.”

Katie didn’t outwardly react to Cho’s icy tone and kept on talking like they were the best of friends, chattering on about how excited she was to finally see the castle. Hermione couldn’t help but be in awe of the other Gryffindor. She was sure that Katie would’ve cowered under the intimidating glare of Cho but Katie met her gaze straight on. There was definitely more to Katie than meets the eye.

“Showtime, ladies!” Amelia returned a few moments later. Cho turned on her heel immediately, walking out before Amelia finished talking. “Leave your bags here and follow me.”

“That was amazing,” Ginny whispered to Katie.

Katie shrugged daintily, a small satisfied smirk appearing on her lips. “Those types of people are easy to deal with.”

“We don’t have all day, ladies.” Amelia shot the women a pointed look.

Katie hurriedly apologized and walked out of the car. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach that suddenly errupted. She stepped out onto the platform and was greeted to a sea of people that went back a couple of blocks. A good half of the people held signs with Cho or Katie’s names but there was a handful of people that held signs with Hermione or Ginny’s name. Hermione felt a small tingle of pleasure as her eyes caught sight of a little girl holding a poster with her name on it.

Hermione and Ginny fell into line beside Katie and Cho, Hermione slowly raising her hand to wave at the crowd. Beside her, Cho had transformed from that ugly, scowling harpy she’d been a few minutes beforehand into a beautiful, excited young woman waving at the crowd.

At the bottom of the platform’s stairs was a deep red carpet that split the crowd and ended by the open door of a black limousine. Fences on either side of the carpet kept the crowd at bay while guards were stationed every few feet, facing the people with stoic expressions.

As soon as Hermione, Ginny, and Katie stepped up beside her, Cho left the platform and began strutting down the red carpet like she owned it. She made sure to place herself directly in the middle of the carpet so no one could walk beside her or pass her, waving to the people on either side. Katie hurried after Cho, walking just a few steps behind her with a little skip in her step. Hermione heard Ginny take a deep breath as she walked down the stairs after the two of them.

Hermione apparently took too long for Amelia’s liking and was given a tiny shove, forcing her down the stairs. Hermione gulped and followed after Ginny, feeling a bit dazed at the people screaming her name as she passed. The sound increased in volume now that Hermione had reached the ground level and she could feel it in her chest. Her heart thudded painfully and she became thankful for the guards that were nearby. There were too many people.

A small book tumbling to the ground in front of them caught Hermione’s attention. Without missing a beat, Cho took an obvious step over the book and continued on walking, ignoring it completely. Katie stepped over it as well, although it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention as she continued on her way, her gaze on the people all trying to get her attention. A small girl of about eleven or twelve was trying to reach down and grab the book but wasn’t able to because of the crowd pushing up behind her.

Hermione paused by the book and bent down, picking it up and handing it to the little girl with a smile, “Here you go.”

The little girl looked up with wide, shocked blue eyes as she clutched the book to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, red tinging her cheeks.

Hermione grinned at the girl and turned away. She made it a few feet when she heard the little girl call out, “Wait!” Hermione turned around and saw the book was now outstretched in one hand and a pen was in the other. “Can I have your autograph?”

She felt herself freeze, heat rushing to her cheeks. “You want _my_ autograph?” Hermione repeated, staring at the little girl in shock. Amelia gently nudged her towards the girl. Hermione tilted her head, unable to stop the words coming out of her mouth, “Why?”

“Because you’re Lady Hermione,” she responded slowly, as if explaining something simple to a very small child.

Hermione swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat and nodded. She gingerly, reverently, took the book and opened it to the front page, grabbing the pen and quickly signing her name. She paused for a moment and then wrote ‘ _thank you_ ’ underneath her signature before handing the book and pen back to the little girl.

Things were suddenly pushed towards Hermione as the crowd swarmed around her, pleading for autographs. Hermione shot a worried look at the little girl as she grabbed the magazine that was in front of her. She didn’t seem to mind the people slamming up against her, her gaze dreamy as she looked down at Hermione’s signature.

Hermione signed as many things as she could before Amelia appeared at her side and forced her to continue down the carpet. The others had already reached the limousine, although Ginny was the only one waiting for her.

“That was so awesome,” Ginny grinned at Hermione as they got into the limousine. Amelia closed the door and the car drove off.

“I cannot believe that happened,” Hermione said, shaking her head and giving a disbelieving laugh. Cho looked absolutely livid and huffed loudly before she turned to stare moodily out the window. Hermione resisted rolling her eyes and turned to Amelia. “I’m sorry if I made us late,” she apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Amelia brushed Hermione off. There was a smile on her face and if Hermione didn’t know any better, she’d say it was a _proud_ smile.

The limousine drove over a large bridge and suddenly they were surrounded by rolling hills. Small buildings dotted the skyline and beyond that, a forest. Ginny’s sharp intake of breath made Hermione turn and she couldn’t keep the gasp from escaping, either.

Hogwarts castle was _massive,_ its towers so high Hermione had to crane her neck to see the top of them. The limousine stopped in a rounded driveway and the door to Hermione’s right was suddenly opened. A guard extended his hand for Hermione to take and she grasped it, staring up at the castle as it loomed over them. Even Cho looked awestruck as she got out of the vehicle.

Amelia allowed the girls a moment to take in the castle before she walked briskly up to the large front doors. The doors swung open and she stepped inside. Hermione snapped out of her stupor and followed after the older woman.

The interior of the castle was warm and inviting, despite being encased by stone walls and floors. Banners of reds, greens, yellows, and blues tumbled from ceiling to floor, each province’s insignia proudly displayed. What really caught Hermione’s attention was the glass cases placed throughout the main hall filled with antiques. She wanted to stop and take a closer look at them but Amelia kept walking through the hall and towards another set of double doors.

They were led into another room that looked more like a waiting room. Hermione felt herself tense as she spotted photographers and cameramen milling around. They all stopped talking and turned to look at them when they entered but, thankfully, didn’t start filming them.

Amelia stopped in front of another set of closed doors (Hermione wondered just how many rooms were in the castle) and clapped her hands loudly. “Behind me is what is known as the Ladies Room,” she began, her voice echoing slightly. “It is where all of you will spend your free time when not in lessons, entertaining guests, or being with royalty. Right now, it’s set up as a salon where each of you will meet with a stylist and your head maid. They will help you with your makeover.”

Amelia pointed off to the side where a backdrop and expensive, professional looking lights were setup. “Before you head into the Ladies Room, each of you will get your ‘before’ picture taken. Don’t be surprised when you see people taking pictures or recording you while getting your makeover. They need footage for the special that will be airing tomorrow night.”

Amelia reached back and knocked on the doors behind her. They opened and the girls were greeted to the sight of people rushing back and forth, yelling out names of colors and asking things like, ‘Has anyone seen the butterfly broach?’

Cho took the initiative by strutting over to where they were to get their photos taken. She posed dramatically as the cameras flashed and then made her way into the Ladies Room. A stylist swept her up as soon as she entered the room and she disappeared.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Ginny left her side. Would she really be able to do this? This was way outside of her comfort zone and without someone like Amelia around to constantly remind Hermione of what she was to do…

_You’re doing this for Dad. You can do this, Hermione_.

A hand touched her arm and her eyes snapped open.

“Are you okay?” Katie asked quietly, keeping her voice down to not draw anyone’s attention. Hermione was grateful for that.

“I’ll be fine,” she lied. “This is just a little… intense.”

“It certainly is nerve-wracking,” Katie agreed. Ginny finished with her photos and Katie looked at her. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Go ahead.”

Katie smiled at Hermione, giving her arm a squeeze before walking over to the photographer. Ginny gave Hermione a worried look as she walked into the Ladies Room. There was another flurry of activity at her arrival and she was swept away.

Katie finished with her photos and walked into the Ladies Room, leaving Hermione alone with the photographers. She set her shoulders and walked over to them, her pulse thrumming wildly like a hummingbird.

“Smile, Lady Hermione,” the photographer instructed.

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to smile as the photographer snapped away. She could tell from his expression that the photos weren’t going to turn out as nice as the others. Why couldn’t Amelia have spent a week teaching Hermione how to pose properly or smile without looking awkward instead of when was the appropriate time to use a salad fork?  Posing for pictures was something that Hermione was _actually_ going to do. The photographer shooed Hermione away and she turned, feeling her mood shifting into something darker.

A woman with short brown hair rushed Hermione as soon as she walked into the Ladies Room. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with excitement as she gave a deep curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Hermione,” she said. “My name is Tonks and I will be your head maid during your stay at the castle. Please, if you’ll follow me.”

Tonks didn’t give Hermione a chance to respond before she turned around and walked off to a station. Hermione followed after her, looking around at the large room they were in. Large bay windows lined one of the walls, filling the room with natural light. On the other side of the room Hermione could see a familiar looking redhead sitting down on a stool and talking with a camera crew. Susan Bones tossed her head back and laughed at whatever the person said before jumping up and walking away.  

A tall man with cropped black hair jumped into Hermione’s line of sight, making her take a step back. He grinned at her and ushered her into a chair, smiling with teeth that looked a little _too_ white. Tonks scampered off out of the room.

“Lady Hermione,” the man greeted, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking at her by her reflection. “Let me say it is an honor to help make you over for the Drawing.”

“Thank you?” Hermione was sure her words came out as more of a question as the man barked out a loud laugh.

“Alright, let’s talk business,” he said, turning serious. “What type of image were you thinking of going for?”

“Uh…” Hermione froze, her eyes locked on the man’s reflection above her. Amelia had mentioned something about an image back when they’d first met but she hadn’t put too much thought into it. She had lumped ‘image’ in with ‘makeover,’ thus not really caring about it. It was clear that the stylist was expecting her to have an idea. “I’m not too sure.”

He looked slightly put out by her words and stepped back. Hermione fought to stay still under his gaze, his eyes roaming her body as he slowly circled around her. “Not sexy, I don’t think,” he muttered to himself, his ringed hand coming up to caress his chin. Hermione’s eyes widened at his bluntness. Before she had the time to even think about feeling insulted, he continued muttering. “Too many are going for sexy. You have too much of a mature air for innocent… studious, maybe?” His eyes flicked back to Hermione’s.

“Can’t I just be me?” Hermione asked slowly. She _really_ didn’t like the idea of having an image.

The man stared at Hermione for a moment before bursting out into loud, obnoxious laughter. People around them paused with what they were doing to stare. “ _Can’t I just be me_ ,” he laughed, swiping a finger under his eye. “Oh, maybe innocent is the way to go after all.”

Hermione’s steadily increasing bad mood took a nose dive and she glared at him through the mirror, her face heating up. _What_ was so funny about what she said? The man took one look at Hermione once he was finished making himself laugh and his expression sobered up instantly. “Forgive me, Lady Hermione. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he apologized. “The people I makeover rarely ask to just be themselves and it caught me off guard.”

Tonks returned at that moment, pushing a large rack of dresses up beside the stylist. She seemed to sense the tension coming off of Hermione and paused, glancing warily between the two of them. “Antoni?” she questioned.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just making an ass out of myself like usual.” He waved his hand and went back behind Hermione, once again looking at her reflection. “So, here’s what I’m thinking. We don’t want to do too much with her hair, maybe cut the split ends off and help manage the curls but let’s leave the colour.”

Tonks nodded, grabbing a notepad and writing down what Antoni said. Hermione sat back with a huff as he continued to eye her with a calculating look. His apology did little to help the feeling that Hermione didn’t belong there.

“Clean up the eyebrows and go light on the makeup – we want a nice, natural baseline to start. I’m thinking the blue sundress and…” Antoni trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at Hermione’s hands. She looked down with a frown but she couldn’t see anything. Antoni picked up one of her hands and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

Oh.

Hermione swallowed and looked away, her anger quickly replaced with shame. He was asking about the scars she had. She bit her lip, not sure what to say. _The life of a Five, right?_ Hermione had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well if she said that.

“Lady Hermione,” Antoni whispered. Hermione glanced up at him and was horrified to see the pity in his eyes. Tonks looked over his shoulder to see what he was talking about and gasped. “Oh, my lady, I’m so sorry.”

Hermione pulled her hand from his grip and placed them on her lap. She cleared her throat. “It’s fine,” she mumbled hoarsely.

“No, it’s not.” Antoni sighed. He rubbed his forehead and looked at Tonks. “Change of plans. We’ll dress her in that peach day dress and use the gloves.”

Hermione frowned as Tonks nodded and went to the rack of dresses. “If I’m the only one wearing gloves it’s going to be suspicious,” she pointed out. As subtly as she could, she shifted so she was sitting on her hands.

Antoni smiled at her, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s why we’re picking the peach dress,” he quipped. “The gloves match the trim. They’re an accessory.”

Hermione pursed her lips but didn’t respond. A cameraman came by at that moment and she fought hard to clear her expression. The cameraman did a circle around Hermione and Antoni and then moved on to Ginny’s station.

“It won’t be an every day thing,” Antoni promised, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Today will be the only day that the cameras will try and get close ups to what you’ll be wearing. This is the day that matters. Trust me.”

Hermione sighed. Antoni did have a point. “Okay,” she relented.

Antoni gave her a bright smile and squeezed her shoulders. “Let’s get started then.”

**[o][o][o]**

True to Antoni’s word, Hermione’s makeover was light. He and Tonks spent a fair amount of time ‘redefining’ Hermione’s eyebrows and working on making her curls more manageable. He handed a bottle of hair product to Tonks for her to use later on, winking at Hermione as he did so. He pinned the sides of her hair up and then declared her hair ‘fit for a lady.’

For makeup, Hermione was quite happy that very little was done in that aspect as well. Neutral eyeshadow was applied to her eyelids and then lined with a soft brown eyeliner and mascara. A soft, rosy blush and glossy lip balm completed the look.

Antoni prodded Hermione to stand and go into a change room off to the side. Tonks joined Hermione seconds later, holding a rosy peach dress. Hermione took the dress and frowned when Tonks stayed in the change room. “I’m going to change now?” she prompted.

“I’ll help you.” Tonks shrugged and smiled, seemingly not at all bothered by the idea of her undressing in front of her.

“Uh,” Hermione stuttered. “I’m not comfortable undressing in front of people.”

Tonks made a sound and gave her a reassuring smile. “Forgive me, my Lady.”

“What, no you don’t have to –” Hermione began but Tonks had already slipped out of the change room. Hermione sighed. “Apologize,” she finished, glancing down at the dress in her hands before changing. The fabric was soft and smooth against Hermione’s skin; it was the softest piece of clothing she had ever worn before. The skirt fell just above her knees and the square neckline was modest, the sleeves resting just above her elbows. As she examined herself in the mirror, the divider was snapped open.

“I like it,” Tonks announced, handing her a pair of strappy sandals with a little kitten heel. Antoni appeared behind her with a pair of gloves that matched the dress’s colour exactly. The two of them helped Hermione into her shoes and gloves and then proceeded to put a matching bracelet and necklace on.

Antoni moved Hermione over to a three-way mirror and stepped back, nodding in satisfaction. “There you go,” he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re still you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile on her face. “Thank you.” Antoni was overbearing and Tonks seemed too eager to please, but Hermione had to admit that the two of them made Hermione look good.

“Lady Hermione, if you’ll follow me,” Tonks began, gesturing to where Hermione had seen Susan Bones earlier, “it’s time for your interview.”

Hermione instinctively straightened as she followed Tonks, her stomach a bundle of nerves. What were they going to ask her? They were sure to bring up her being a Five at some point. If they did, how would they ask about it? Was she even going to make it through the interview without stuttering? Probably not. What if they asked Hermione to take off her gloves? She could feel herself begin to sweat.

The interviewer looked up from her notes as Hermione approached. “Lady Hermione!” she greeted, putting her clipboard down. She rushed over to her and eagerly shook her hand. “So nice to meet you. You look gorgeous today.”

“Thank you.” Hermione became intensely aware that the cameraman had turned his camera onto her as the interviewer led her to the stool.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” she said, sensing Hermione’s hesitation. “I’ll just ask a few questions and if you mess up we can try again, okay?”

Hermione’s smile became more genuine as she nodded. Thank God.

“First question,” the woman said, grinning. “What do you think of the castle?”

The question was so simple and generic that it made Hermione laugh in surprise. “It’s huge,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how people find their way around in here.”

This earned her some chuckles. Hermione sat up straighter, her confidence increasing. This wasn’t so bad. She could do this.

“The day’s been pretty hectic for you, hasn’t it?”

Hermione nodded, grateful yet again for the simple question. “It’s been a lot of hurry up and wait,” she said thoughtfully. “We were rushed when going to the train or from the car to the castle, but the actual travel time was quite long.”

“Speaking of ‘we,’ how does it feel to have a friend in the Drawing with you?” the interviewer asked. “This sort of thing has never happened before.”

There was the hard question that Hermione had been expecting. To be fair, it wasn’t really a _hard_ question at all. Hermione and Ginny knowing each other beforehand was already big news among the public. “I’m thankful that I’m not alone in this,” Hermione said.

The interviewer smiled and got up. “That’s it, thanks for your time.”

“That’s it?” Hermione asked. She’d been expecting more questions.

“That’s it.” The woman nodded. “We only have so much time for the report and all sixteen of you have to have the same air time. Rather painless, right?”

Hermione nodded. Tonks suddenly appeared at Hermione’s side and was ushering her over to a sofa before she could even comprehend what happened. She’d done it. She’d survived her first interview and it hadn’t been as horrible as she thought! A small smile began to spread across her face and she bit her lip, trying to keep it hidden.

“Looks like you’re the first one done,” Tonks observed as Hermione sat down on the sofa. Ginny, Katie, and Cho were all at different stages of their makeover but it looked like they were all nearing being finished. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Tonks nodded her head and took a few steps back, her hands clasped in front of her. Hermione gazed around the room, watching the flurry of activity go on around her. She was acutely aware of Tonks’ presence behind her and was trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in her stomach. The need to ask if Tonks wanted to take a seat was strong, but she resisted. Hermione knew she’d be refused.

Twenty minutes later, the clacking of heels walking towards her drew Hermione from her thoughts. She glanced up and her eyes widened, “Whoa, Ginny.”

Her freshly made over friend grinned and struck a pose. “You like?” she asked.

Ginny’s once wavy hair red was now pin straight and fell to the middle of her back. Bold bangs framed her face and the dark eyeliner that lined her eyes gave quite the dramatic look against her pale skin. She was wearing a yellow sundress, which gave an air of innocence to her now grown up look.

“You look great,” Hermione smiled.

Ginny sat down next to Hermione and nudged her shoulder against hers with a grin. “You’re looking pretty great, yourself,” she said. Her eyes went down to her gloved hands and Ginny’s smile dropped slightly. She looked back up to Hermione, her eyes softening but didn’t say anything.

Katie was the next one finished. Her brown hair was cut into a choppy bob and she was wearing a strapless, deep blue dress. She’d obviously decided to for a sexier look and while she looked amazing, Hermione felt like the look didn’t really suit her personality.

“You two look amazing,” Katie grinned, sitting down next to Ginny.

Unsurprisingly, Cho was the last one to be finished with her makeover. The change was dramatic, her once long black hair cut into a sharp, angular bob that framed her face. Her makeup was dark and her little black dress so tight on her that Hermione had to wonder if magic was being used to hide any imperfections.

Cho’s deadly looking heels echoed off the granite flooring as she made her way over to them. She paused a few feet away from the sofa, her hip jutting out dramatically. It looked like she was posing for a picture. Hermione realized that Cho was waiting for them to comment on her makeover. She frowned, feeling a sudden and expected flash of sympathy towards her.

The large doors opened before anyone had a chance to say anything and Amelia walked in. Her eyes scanned the room before falling onto the four women. She walked towards them, taking the time to look over each of their makeovers. Behind her, a small figure walked into the room and was pulled into Antoni’s station.

“If you’ll follow me,” Amelia said, not letting them take a look at the new arrivals. She turned to another set of doors – seriously, how many doors did this place have? – and led them into a large corridor.

“The ladies from Hufflepuff and Slytherin have already arrived,” she said, her voice echoing off the walls. “So, we’re just waiting for the ladies from Ravenclaw to get their makeovers.”

Amelia showed them a series of rooms that Hermione knew she would never remember how to get back to. The only one that stood out in Hermione’s mind was a large dining room with a u-shaped table in the middle of the room. The ceiling was under some sort of enchantment that made it look like a bright summer’s day. Hermione had no idea that was something you could do with magic. It was breathtaking.

“This is where you’ll be dining with the royal family.” Amelia’s voice broke the spell as she began shepherding everyone back into the corridor. She led them up a wide staircase and down another hallway where Hermione could hear the faint sound of female voices. She breathed deeply, knowing that they would be meeting the others from Slytherin and Hufflepuff in a few moments.

“This section is where you’ll find your bedrooms,” Amelia explained. She pointed to one of the doors with the name _Fleur Delacour_ written in elegant handwriting. Katie’s name was written on the door beside it. She stopped by Katie’s door and pushed it open. From where Hermione stood, she could see a lavishly decorated bed through the opening. “I’ll leave you ladies to get used to your rooms while we wait for Ravenclaw.”

Katie gave a small wave to Hermione and Ginny before walking through the door and closing it softly behind her. Amelia continued on down the corridor without looking to see if they were following her.

A door opened on the right and a blonde head peeked out, baby blue eyes going wide as she spotted the small group. Amelia paused, her head turning slightly to look at the woman. “Is your room to your liking, Lady Hannah?”

Hannah blinked, turning to stare at Amelia for a moment. “Oh, yes,” she said after a pause. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Amelia nodded her head and continued on walking. She stopped at a door that had Ginny’s name on it and opened it up. Her room had a different colour scheme than Katie’s and Hermione could see a fancy looking vanity from her vantage point. Ginny took a step towards the door and paused, looking over her shoulder at Hermione. “Come find me once you’re settled.”

“I will,” Hermione promised. Ginny shot her a grin and then closed the door.

They went further down the corridor, passing doors that had opened up. The voices Hermione had heard earlier grew louder now that doors were opening, the other ladies letting their curiosity get the better of them. Hermione fought the urge to look over her shoulder at them, not quite ready to meet anyone else just yet. Katie and Cho had been enough for now and all Hermione wanted to do was have some time alone.

To Hermione’s dismay, Amelia stopped by the last two doors and gestured to them. Hermione’s name was printed on the door to the right while Cho’s was on the left. Cho didn’t look happy either and she shot a glare at Hermione.

The call to be alone was too much for Hermione and she stepped forward before Amelia could open the door for her. She allowed herself a glance back as she walked into the room. Hannah had gathered with three other women in the corridor behind them and they were whispering quietly to each other. Hermione offered them a small smile and shut the door, the noise muffling instantly.

“Oh! You’re here!”

Hermione didn’t even get the chance to turn around before she was being rushed by a tiny little woman with bright blonde hair. She pressed herself up against the door as the woman stopped in front of her, dipping into a low curtsy.

“Sally,” Tonks reprimanded from where she’d been sitting at a small table.

Hermione frowned, looking at Tonks in confusion. She could’ve sworn Tonks had stayed behind in the Ladies Room when Amelia dragged them away. How in the world had she managed to get back to the rooms before them? She turned back to the woman in front of her, feeling slightly uneasy by the starstruck expression she was wearing.

“Hello,” she greeted slowly. Her eyes darted back to Tonks. _Please help me_.

Tonks gave an obvious cough as she walked over to the pair. The woman quickly straightened up and took a step back, her head bowing slightly. “My name is Sally, my lady,” she introduced herself. “I’ve been selected to help Tonks with whatever you need while at the castle.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Hermione looked between the two of them. “Both of you.”

Tonks and Sally dipped into another curtsy. An unpleasant feeling wormed its way back into Hermione’s stomach and she looked away, uncomfortable with how they were acting around her. She looked around at the room to avoid having to make eye contact.

The bedroom could have easily fit Hermione’s home in it and have room to spare. A king-sized bed with cream colouring was pushed up against a wall with elegant – and extremely expensive looking – lamps on the bedside tables. An ornate trunk sat at the end of the bed with Hermione’s ragged little suitcase sitting on top of it.

“Is the room to your liking, my lady?” Tonks asked. She had pulled Sally off to the side so Hermione could walk further into the room.

Hermione managed a small nod, words escaping her. There was a large window on the wall next to the bed with thick looking white curtains draping down to the dark hardwood floor. A small, round table with three chairs was placed next to a door that led to a small balcony. On the opposite wall was a large bookcase that was only half-filled with books. Two plush cream coloured chairs were placed by the bookshelf, facing each other.

Hermione’s throat felt tight as she spun slowly, her eyes taking in the crystal chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. A short, almost hysterical sounding laugh escaped her and she shook her head. She couldn’t believe this was to be her room while she was there. It was almost too much.

“Was there anything you needed?” Tonks asked quietly. “It’ll be a couple hours before Mrs. Bones will call on you again.”

“I think I’d like to rest for a bit,” Hermione said softly.  “Is that alright?”

“Of course, it’s alright!” Sally said, looking appalled that Hermione had even asked that question. “If you wanted to nap we could wake you in a little bit?”

Even though Hermione was tired, she knew she wouldn’t be able to nap if she wanted to. Antoni and Tonks had put so much work into her makeover that she’d feel horrible mussing up her hair or making her makeup smudge. “No, that’s fine.” She wrung her gloved hands in front of her, squirming under the gaze of the two of them. “I think I’m going to go find Ginny first.”

“Do you need one of us to take you to her room?” Tonks asked.

“No, I remember.” Hermione moved to the door, turning her head to look at them. She had no idea what the proper protocol was for this. Did she dismiss them? Tell them she’d be right back? It felt so _wrong_ just leaving them in the room like that.

“We’ll put your luggage away while you visit Lady Ginny,” Tonks said, sensing Hermione’s hesitation. Sally jumped into action, hurrying over to the trunk and grabbing Hermione’s suitcase.

Hermione gave a tense smile and left her room, blowing out a shaky breath. If Tonks and Sally continued to be so eager with her she wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to take.

Ginny had joined the group of women out in the corridor. She had a slightly panicked look on her face as they fired off question after question. As soon as she noticed that Hermione had left her room, her eyes went wide and her expression changed into a pleading one. It was a look that said, _help me_. The others turned in almost perfect sync and Hermione had to resist running back to the safety of her room.

“Lady Hermione!” Hannah said, beckoning her over. She slowly made her way over to the group, trying to ignore the way the others were eyeing her. Ginny practically slumped over in relief as Hermione joined them.

It felt weird knowing who these women were without actually meeting them. She’d spent so many hours going over the applications that she knew Hannah was a hopeless romantic and that the tall, athletically built Angelina Johnson had a thing for sweets. Hermione could only assume they were thinking the same thing about her.

“How long have you all been here?” Hermione asked, not wanting to go through the formality of introductions. It was a pointless thing to do.

“Us from Slytherin got here about three hours ago.” Hermione was not expecting the French accent that came from Fleur Delacour although once she heard it, everything she’d read about her snapped into place. Her photo had not done the woman’s beauty justice with her silver-blonde hair piled up on the top of her head and dainty looking face.

“And we arrived about an hour and a half afterwards?” Parvati Patil looked over at Angelina for confirmation.

“About that,” Angelina nodded.

“I couldn’t imagine being here that early,” Ginny muttered, shaking her head. “It’d be torture.”

“It isn’t wasn’t so bad. One of the maids showed us around the castle.” It didn’t escape Hermione’s notice that both Parvati and Angelina rolled their eyes as Hannah began to speak. Her curiosity piqued but she kept quiet, her eyes sliding over to Ginny. Her friend didn’t notice, too caught up in the horror of being at the castle for so long and having nothing to do.

Hermione excused herself after a while, going back to her room. Ginny tilted her head, silently offering to go with her. She just shook her head, smiling at everyone and saying that she would see them later on. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

Tonks and Sally had unpacked her suitcase and were sitting at the small table. They stood up as soon as Hermione entered the room, both of them stepping up to greet her.

“Did you want us to leave, my lady?” Tonks asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Tonks smiled and she and Sally made their way to the door. “We will come get you when it’s time.”

The door snapped shut and Hermione was finally alone for the first time in hours. She sighed and went over to one of the chairs, flopping down onto it. The peach gloves were yanked off of her fingers and thrown onto the arm of the chair with a soft _thump_. She was exhausted and the day wasn’t even half over yet.

The day hadn’t been at all what Hermione was expecting and she wasn’t sure how to think about it. She’d been surprised by how easy it was to get drawn into talking with the others. She’d had it in her mind that she would keep her head down and not really interact with anyone but hadn’t hesitated when others tried talking to her. The worst part, and the part that Hermione felt horrible about, was that she found herself second guessing the sincerity of everyone.

Everyone Hermione had talked to besides Cho seemed genuinely excited to meet her and there was a little voice in the back of her head telling her that she was being played. It was worrying how quickly her mind went the others having some ulterior motive, especially since she’d be so against the Drawing from the start.

Hermione sighed again and held out her hands, looking at the scars on her knuckles. The scabs from the most recent wounds had healed over a long time ago but the tiny scars stood out on her skin. She clenched her fists, watching the skin go taunt. She’d never felt embarrassed about her hands before, the scars meant to her that she stood up for what she believed in. Today was the first day she felt embarrassed over them. She felt ashamed that she had those scars and of Antoni’s reaction to them.

There was a knock at the door and Hermione scrambled for her gloves, hastily shoving her hands into them. The door opened seconds later and Tonks appeared, giving a curtsy before announcing, “Mrs. Bones is calling for everyone, Lady Hermione.”

Hermione pushed herself up from the chair and left her room. She spotted Ginny standing next to Katie as Amelia waited near the other end of the corridor. It was too crowded to really get a good look at everyone as she walked up to Ginny and Katie.

Ginny was practically bouncing in excitement when she turned to Hermione. “This is it,” she whispered. “It’s starting.”

Hermione managed a smile, despite her mood still being a bit sour from her previous thoughts. Ginny was all in for the Drawing and she couldn’t bring herself to ruin this moment for her. Once all sixteen women were gathered, Amelia led them down the stairs and back into the Ladies Room. The salon stations had been cleared out and now had sofas, chairs, and small tables littered around the room.

They all fanned out around Amelia, allowing Hermione to get a better look at everyone. Of course, she recognized the women but it was still interesting to see what they decided to do for their makeover. Luna Lovegood had gone through the biggest makeover and was the only one out of all of them to change the colour of her hair. Luna’s chocolate brown hair became a light blonde and curled around her shoulders.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Amelia called, drawing Hermione’s attention to her. Her eyes roamed over everyone and she gave a satisfied nod. “My name is Amelia Bones and I am the head overseer to Hogwarts’ Fourth Drawing.” A few heads turned to where Susan Bones was standing and she hunched her shoulders under the scrutiny. Amelia ignored the stares her niece was getting. “There has been a sudden change of plans so we’re just waiting for the camera crew to get here before we continue.”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a glance as a soft murmur rippled through the crowd. Next to Katie, Lavender Brown whispered, “I wonder if it’s Prince Harry.”

The doors opened and a camera crew came rushing into the room, all of them looking flustered. The hurried over to the side of the room and began prepping their cameras. Amelia cast them a side glance but otherwise didn’t acknowledge them.

“Your Majesty, the Queen.”

The doors opposite of them swung open and Queen Lily walked into the Ladies Room. The camera crew could be heard swearing quietly as they scrambled to get their equipment ready. Hermione smirked at them before looking over at the queen. Her posture was perfect and there was a serene expression on her face as she glided next to Amelia.

Queen Lily was beautiful, the picture of beauty and grace. Her long auburn hair was in a low ponytail and curled over her shoulder. Her hands rested neatly in front of her as her eyes took in everyone in front of her.

“Just as a reminder,” Amelia said, turning her body towards the queen, “when a member of the royal family enters a room it is customary to bow or curtsy.”

Hermione had known already known this thanks to Amelia’s torture the past week and dipped into a low curtsy. She straightened up as the camera crew finally got their equipment set up and began filming instantly.

“Welcome to Hogwarts castle,” Queen Lily greeted them. Her voice was quiet but still held the authority that made Hermione stand up straighter. “I know it’s been quite the day for all of you. I promise I’ll keep this short. Today is all about you so please take as much time as you need to get acquainted with the castle and with your fellow Drawing members. You are free to roam anywhere as long as it isn’t the west wing or the dungeons. If you want to go to the gardens or explore the grounds, all I ask is you take a guard with you – it’s very easy to lose your way around here. I hope you have a wonderful evening and I will see you tomorrow.”

Queen Lily gave a small nod of her head and turned on her heel, walking out of the room quietly. The camera crew began to put away their equipment as soon as the doors were shut. Another murmur went through the group, some of them voicing what Hermione was thinking.

_That’s it?_

“Excuse me,” a pretty blonde raised her hand in the air, looking hesitant.

“Yes, Lady Lavender?”

“Will we be meeting Prince Harry today?”

“You will all be officially meeting the royal family tomorrow.”

“So, we just went through this entire process just to have a thirty second speech from the queen?” another woman asked. Hermione recognized her as Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin.

“Not at all. You all just went through this… entire process… so the _Hogwarts Express_ and the _Daily Prophet_ will have footage for their stories on the Drawing.” Amelia’s tone was so saccharine it reminded Hermione of the phrase ‘kill them with kindness.’  A few giggles escaped from the women around her as Amelia looked at the entire group. “No one at any point said you were to meet the prince today. You weren’t even supposed to meet the queen but she suddenly changed her mind.”

Daphne flushed and scoffed softly, turning her gaze away from Amelia.

“The rest of the evening is yours as you see fit,” Amelia continued. “Dinner will be held here in the Ladies Room tonight so the royal family can have one last dinner together before the competition. Like Queen Lily said, you are able to explore the castle except for the west wing and dungeons – don’t worry, guards will be there to tell you if you’re going the wrong way. Your maids will make sure you are awake and ready to go in the morning, and I will see all of you here in the Ladies Room at nine o’clock.”

**[o][o][o]**

Hermione felt surprisingly awake after dinner, the meal rejuvenating her more than making her sleepy. She asked Ginny if she had wanted to go explore the castle but her friend had begged off. In fact, nearly all of the other women had shut themselves in their rooms the moment dinner was finished.

Hermione wanted to go examine those antiques she saw when they first entered the castle and left to go find them. However, finding her way back to the main entrance was a lot harder than Hermione thought it would be. Each corridor looked almost identical to the last, the different pictures and décor items the only way to distinguish where she was going.

Hermione was walking down one hall, looking around her when a plaque beside a large set of doors made her pause.

_Library_.

Excitement shot through Hermione and she licked her lips, reaching out to grab the handle of the door, twisting it. She pushed the door open and walked into the room with baited breath.

The large room held multiple floor to ceiling bookshelves. Candles floated lazily above Hermione’s head, giving off enough light to be able to read but still managing an intimate atmosphere. She smiled, looking up as one candle bobbed above her. Never in her life did Hermione think she would be able to see this sort of magic. Her heart squeezed and she wished that Ginny had come with her. She wanted someone to share this experience with. Unable to resist, Hermione walked over to the nearest bookshelf and reached out, her still gloved fingers running softly against the spines of the books with a soft sigh.

As if she was shocked, Hermione withdrew her hand and glanced around her. Would she get into trouble if she read one? Queen Lily and Amelia _had_ said they were allowed to roam the castle as they pleased. Were they also allowed to _read?_ Or did they expect the Ladies of the Drawing to not even care about the library?

A shuffling noise from somewhere beyond the shelves made Hermione turn. “Hello?” she called out. She received no answer.

Hermione continued further into the room, passing more and more books. There was an open area at the end of the room with tables and chairs lining the wall. A comfy looking sofa sat as a barrier between the books and the reading area. A roaring fireplace was off to the side, just far enough away from the bookshelves to be considered safe.

Hermione moved around the sofa and up to the large window, pulling the gloves off of her hands. She tossed them gently onto the table and squeezed into the space to get closer to the window. It was completely dark outside, but there were little dots of light in the distance where Hermione knew buildings were.

She sighed, rubbing her hand along the smooth window sill idly as she stared out into the blackness before her. Her hand moved from the smooth, polished wood to a slightly raised, uneven texture. She frowned and glanced down.

Long, thin scorch marks littered the window sill, running down onto the stone wall. She bent down, running her hand down the scorch marks with a frown. They looked fresh.

“What are you doing?”

Hermione gasped, her head whipping around and there was a sudden blinding, white pain as her temple connected with the corner of the table she’d squeezed beside. “Bloody hell!” she cried out, losing her balance and falling against the wall. She closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to her now throbbing head. “What the hell is wrong with you? Sneaking up on someone like that – honestly!”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission to be in my own library,” the voice said. Hermione froze. She knew that tenor voice. “Are you alright?”

Hermione forced her eyes open, blinking away the slight fuzziness of her vision. Crouching down in front of her was a lean man. Green eyes examined her from behind a pair of stylish glasses.

Prince Harry frowned, looking concerned as he repeated, “Are you alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, you guys. You. Are. Amazing. The response I've gotten from this story is beyond what I've dreamed of on ao3 and it sends my heart all a pitter-patter. Updates miiiight be a bit slower now that I'm in graduate school, but I'll slowly keep chugging along. Thanks again, everyone!


	5. Chapter Five

**AN:// I'm back! I'm so sorry that it took so long for this update.**

**I had finished the majority of this chapter back in October when I got extremely sick. I was hospitalized for a month and a half and just couldn't find the energy to pick this up when I was discharged. These past couple of months sucked royal ass. BUT, I was given a clean bill of health and have a somewhat moderate grasp on the finances that comes with being sick for so long. Let's do this!!**

**The Drawing**

**Chapter Five**

" _I didn't realize I needed permission to be in my own library," the voice said. Hermione froze. She knew that tenor voice. "Are you alright?"_

_Hermione forced her eyes open, blinking away the slight fuzziness of her vision. Crouching down in front of her was a lean man. Green eyes examined her head behind a pair of stylish glasses._

_Prince Harry frowned, looking concerned as he repeated, "Are you alright?"_

Hermione stared at the man – _prince –_ in front of her, mouth dropping open and brain struggling to process what had just happened. She had just yelled at the prince of Hogwarts; yelled _and_ cursed at the very man the kingdom expected her to fight fifteen other women for. He was liable to send her to prison for that – or worse, home.

At that thought, Hermione's fear spiked, "Y-Your Highness…"

"Do you need me to call for a doctor?" the prince asked, his hands hovering awkwardly over her body as if unsure of what to do.

"A doctor?" She was relieved that he wasn't outwardly angry at her for raising her voice. Maybe he wouldn't send her home right away. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Prince Harry frowned down at her. "You might have a concussion – you hit your head pretty hard."

The words were out of Hermione's mouth before she could even attempt to stifle them, "And whose fault is that?"

A shocked expression passed across Prince Harry's face as he sat back, eyebrows raised. Hermione slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide once she realized what she had said. What was _wrong_ with her? She was usually able to censor her thoughts better than that! The hit to the head must have done something to her filter. She was as good as gone now.

"I am so sorry," she sputtered shakily, her pulse racing. "I didn't – I mean – it just _slipped_ out and –"

Laughter cut Hermione off. Prince Harry's shoulders shook as he chuckled, sitting back on his haunches. She bit her lip, eyeing the prince warily as he continued to laugh. After a moment he seemed to regain control and swiped a finger underneath his watering eye. "You know, when I pictured meeting a Lady of the Drawing, this was the last thing I could have possibly imagined."

"I apologize, Your Highness," Hermione murmured. She glanced down awkwardly, her face warm with embarrassment.

"An apology isn't necessary, but I'll accept it anyway," he grinned, standing up. He offered his hand down to her and she stared up at him, momentarily stunned by how… _boyish_ he looked before taking it and allowing him to pull her to her feet. "I was the one who startled you, so it really should be _me_ apologizing, Miss…"

Prince Harry trailed off, raising his eyebrows as he waited for Hermione to answer him. "Hermione Granger," she smiled. "Shouldn't you know the names of your prospective wives?"

Prince Harry gave an uncomfortable chuckle. "I should," he admitted guiltily. "Unfortunately, there have been other matters that have had to take up my time." He reached down, gingerly picking up one of Hermione's hands and lifting it up to his lips. "But you needn't worry about me forgetting you. You've certainly made a lasting impression."

Hermione felt her blood run cold and she froze as Prince Harry brushed his lips against the back of her hand. It was just dark enough in the library that her scars weren't that noticeable but there was still a chance he could see them. Her embarrassment from that afternoon was still fresh and she yanked her hand out of his grip, backing away until she hit the window sill. Her eyes flittered over to the gloves that lay on the table.

"I'm sorry, did I overstep my boundaries?" Prince Harry's confident expression melted into one of confusion and insecurity, making Hermione feel guilty almost instantly.

"No, not at all," she replied quickly. "It's just … complicated."

The excuse sounded weak even to her ears and she inwardly winced. The prince nodded and took a step back, confusion still written all over his face.

"I should probably go," Hermione said. She reached around to pluck her gloves up off of the table and brushed past the prince.

"Lady Hermione?"

Hermione winced, turning around to see the prince standing closer to the window. She took a deep breath and faced him. Was he going to bring up that he saw her scars? Or, an even more horrifying thought, tell her that she would be the first to go home? He continued to look at her and she squared her shoulders. No, she wouldn't go home without a fight. She'd convince him to let her stay, somehow.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't mention our meeting to the other ladies? Technically I'm not supposed to meet anyone until tomorrow."

Hermione blinked. That was it? "Of course," she readily agreed, relief washing over her. She gave a curtsy. "I promise. Good night, Your Highness."

Hermione spun on her heel and left the library as fast as she could without actually running, shoving her gloves on as soon as she was out the door. The area she'd hit her head was pounding painfully and she knew she would have a bruise come morning. She fought back a groan at the thought.

It hadn't even occurred to Hermione that Prince Harry would kiss the back of her hand. That sort of thing didn't happen in the real world, right? She was extremely thankful that their first encounter was in private and in a darker place. The prince seeing her scars in the light of day surrounded by everyone else would be mortifying, _especially_ if cameras were on them.

Hermione managed to find her way back to her room, having to stop and ask a guard once or twice when she got turned around. The relief she felt when she saw her name printed on the door almost left Hermione breathless. She rushed into her room and shut the door behind her, collapsing against it with a heavy sigh.

Tonks and Sally jumped up immediately, their eyes going wide as they took in her flustered appearance.

"Lady Hermione, what happened?" Sally gasped, rushing over to her. Tonks went to a pitcher that sat on one of the bedside tables and poured a glass of water for her.

"Do we need to alert the guard?" she asked, handing Hermione the glass.

"No! No, it's fine," Hermione quickly reassured. She pushed off of the door and walked further into the room, downing half of the water as she did so.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione finished the rest of the water and placed it on the table. "I'm fine. I just got a bit turned around and panicked for a second."

It was obvious from Tonks and Sally's expressions that they did not believe Hermione for one second but thankfully, stayed silent. Sally grabbed the glass Hermione had placed down while Tonks went over to a large dresser. She pulled out a soft looking nightgown and turned back to Hermione. "Shall we get you ready for bed?"

Hermione allowed Tonks and Sally to help wash her makeup off and brush out her hair. Her headache was getting worse and it was too much effort to put up much of a fight even though she knew she could handle doing those things by herself.

As Tonks unpinned her hair, her hand accidentally brushed against the sore spot on her temple. Hermione couldn't stop the hiss of pain that escaped her as she involuntarily flinched away from Tonks' grasp.

"Are you okay?" Tonks asked. Before Hermione could respond she moved the hair and gasped loudly. "Lady Hermione, you have a bruise! What happened?"

Hermione sighed. "I accidentally hit my head in the library," she said, hoping that would be enough to placate them. "On one of the tables."

Tonks and Sally both began to flutter around her offering soothing words. "Sally go get a potion for her head," Tonks instructed. The younger woman nodded and sprinted out of the room as Tonks went through a door Hermione hadn't noticed before. She could hear tap water running and guessed it was a bathroom. Tonks returned moments later, holding a sopping wet hand towel.

"This'll be cold," Tonks warned. She gently placed the towel against Hermione's temple. The cold caused Hermione to flinch but felt instant relief after that moment of shock. She sighed, leaning into Tonks' hand. "You should've let us know about this," Tonks scolded gently, brushing back Hermione's hair. "You could have a concussion."

"Sorry," Hermione grimaced. It _was_ stupid to not tell them but, in her panic, Hermione couldn't think of a way to let them know while not telling them she had met the prince.

Sally burst through the door a few minutes later, her face flushed and breathing heavily. She was holding a small vial filled with a deep blue liquid. "I've got it," she announced. The door closed behind her and she held out the vial.

Tonks removed the towel from Hermione's head and grabbed the potion. "Drink this," she told Hermione. "It'll make your headache go away and prevent a concussion."

Hermione eyed the blue liquid warily, suddenly nervous. She'd never had a potion before; potions were allowed in the Five caste, but they just could never afford them. She took the vial and uncorked it, bringing it up to her nose to sniff it. It had a slight minty scent.

Tonks and Sally stood in front of her, patiently waiting although Hermione could see the confusion in their eyes. They probably didn't know that she'd never had a potion before and was nervous about the taste. Deciding not to bring up that fact, Hermione brought the vial to her lips and downed it like a shot.

It didn't exactly taste _good_ , but it wasn't horrible, either. Almost immediately the pain from her temple started to fade and she sighed in relief.

"You should get to bed," Tonks instructed, taking the empty vial from her. "You have a busy day ahead of you."

Suddenly exhausted, Hermione looked around the room. The clothes she'd worn that day still had to be put away and there was a small trail of water coming from the bathroom where the hand towel had dripped. "I will as soon as I clean up," she promised.

"Leave the cleaning to us," Tonks said. Sally was already grabbing Hermione's discarded dress as Tonks gestured to the bed. "Please, Lady Hermione. You need your rest."

The set in Tonks' shoulders told Hermione that she wasn't going to win this argument. With a sigh, she dragged her feet over to the large bed and climbed into it. She collapsed onto the soft mattress with another sigh, her eyes already heavy. She was out completely by the time Tonks turned off the lights.

**[o][o][o]**

The sound of curtains being ripped open drew Hermione from her sleep. The noise had just registered with her when bright light hit her face. She hissed, recoiling, and rolled onto her stomach with a long, drawn out, "No."

There was suppressed laughter and the sound of another set of curtains being opened, filling the already bright room with more sunlight. Hermione lifted her head from the pillow, her eyes squinting as they tried to adjust to the brightness.

"Good morning, Lady Hermione," Tonks chirped brightly. "How did you sleep?"

Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position and yawned. Even though she'd fallen asleep quickly, she'd had a horrible sleep. The bed was _too_ soft, and Hermione kept waking up throughout the night in a panic, forgetting where she was. She snorted to herself. Who ever heard of someone being too comfortable to be able to sleep?

"It was okay."

Tonks looked at Hermione with a sympathetic expression. "Is your head bothering you?"

It wasn't, not really. There was a tiny bit of throbbing at Hermione's temple, but it wasn't anything to make a fuss about. Still, Hermione decided to play it up just so she didn't have to admit that the bed had been too soft for her. "A bit." She tried to smile but wasn't sure if she succeeded. "It isn't too bad, though."

"I can go get you another potion if you want?" Tonks offered.

"No," Hermione said quickly. "I'll be fine, thank you."

Hermione went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and relieve herself as Tonks started to get things ready for the day. While brushing her teeth, Hermione tried to think of different ways to hide her scars from the prince. Gloves were out. She'd worn them yesterday and was sure that people would start to ask questions if she wore them again. That wasn't worth the hassle.

A long-sleeved sweater or dress might do the trick, but Hermione wasn't sure if she had that sort of option to begin with. She hadn't been able to get a good look at the rack of dresses from yesterday and she didn't even think to ask what sort of clothes she'd be wearing from that point on. It was stupid of her, really.

Hermione rinsed her mouth out and went back to her room. Sally had joined Tonks by the table and were talking quietly as they organized a pile of makeup.

"So, I have to ask," Hermione began awkwardly, "is it customary to shake hands when you meet the prince or…?" She trailed off pathetically, trying to ignore the way Tonks' eyes slip down to her hands before going back to her face. "I know we have to curtsy, but is there anything else?"

"It'll all be explained to you this morning before meeting the prince," Tonks said, smiling softy. "I hope you don't mind, but I had an idea of what dress you should wear today."

"Oh?" Hermione perked up at this. She followed Tonks into her walk-in closet and felt her mouth drop open. Like everything else in the castle, the closet was _huge_ and was fully packed with dresses, shoes, and handbags.

Tonks went over to one of the racks and pulled out a dress for Hermione to look at. The dress was beautiful – a baby blue halter with a sweetheart neckline – but she couldn't quite understand why Tonks had suggested it.

"The best part of this dress," Tonks said innocently, "is its _pockets_."

Hermione's eyes widened and she began to smile. Tonks was amazing. A little overeager, yes, but amazing. "Let's do it."

Hermione walked back into the bedroom and sat on a chair while Tonks and Sally did her hair and makeup. She didn't mind letting them do this for her. Hermione knew she was hopeless to be able to pull off this part by herself and was grateful that the other women knew what to do. Forty-five minutes later, Hermione was standing in front of a full-length mirror. Her hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs craftily placed to hide the tiny bruise on her temple and the makeup was light.

The best part of the dress really _was_ the pockets. Shoving her hands into them, Hermione twisted her body from side to side, eyeing her reflection. The knee-length skirt had enough flow to it that it didn't look awkward for her to have her hands in her pockets. It wasn't a full solution to her problem, but it helped.

Hermione was deemed ready enough to meet the prince and quickly left the room. Other girls were milling around in the corridor, slowly making their way to the staircase. They were stalling, that much was obvious. The way their eyes turned and scanned Hermione's body when she stepped out of her room sent a shiver down her spine. Parvati may have been kind the previous day but the way her dark eyes analyzed Hermione made one thing very clear.

The game was now on.

Ginny's door opened as Hermione went by and her friend walked out, a confident expression set on her face. "Hermione!" she grinned, falling into line with her and looping her arm through hers. Parvati's eyes skipped from Hermione's body to Ginny's instantly.

They made their way down the stairs and to the Ladies Room. Parvati and Alicia Spinnet fell into step behind them, their stares digging into Hermione's back. She fought to ignore the uneasy feeling it gave her.

Amelia was waiting outside of the Ladies Room for everyone. Her eyes roamed over them as they approached. The way her eyes shifted from each of them made Hermione feel like they were undergoing some sort of inspection.

"Good morning, ladies," she greeted. "Pick a seat inside and wait for the first lesson to begin."

The Ladies Room had once again transformed from when Hermione had last been in it. The furniture that had been replaced the makeshift salon was now pushed aside and there were two long tables sitting in the middle of the room parallel to each other, surrounded by high backed chairs. Each seat had a black placemat with white and gold tableware placed on top of it. Hermione followed Ginny over to the middle of one of the tables, glancing around. More than half of the women were already there, sitting together in clumps and talking while they waited.

Or, they _were_ talking. The moment Hermione, Ginny, Parvati, and Alicia entered, everyone paused in their conversation to turn and stare at them. Hermione instinctively shoved her hands into her dress's pockets.

Ginny faltered for a second under everyone's gaze but continued on, taking a seat and cheerfully calling out, "Good morning, everyone."

Hermione reluctantly followed after Ginny, having no choice but to take a seat between Ginny and Angelina. Angelina smiled warmly at her as Hermione got settled. "How did you sleep?" she asked kindly.

Hermione paused, not sure how to answer. "I slept okay," she lied.

"I kept waking up during the night," Angelina admitted, lowering her voice a touch. "The bed felt a bit… _too_ soft, you know?"

" _I_ slept like a baby," a woman with white-blonde hair piped up from the other table. Angelina glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. Hermione recognized her as Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. Pansy was resting her elbows against the table, her already lowcut dress showing more cleavage than was necessary.

"I am _so_ happy for you," Angelina said dryly before turning back to Hermione, making it very clear that the conversation with Pansy was over. Hermione couldn't stop the burst of laughter that came from her when she saw the look of absolute outrage that crossed Pansy's face. She brought the back of her hand up to her mouth, trying to smother the sound but it was too late.

Pansy turned bright red as the others who had heard the exchange started to snicker as well. Katie squirmed in her seat, looking uncomfortable as Pansy glared at their side of the table. "The beds _are_ really comfy," she offered.

"Oh, shut up," Pansy grumbled.

Angelina opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Amelia clapping loudly. "Look alive, ladies!" She stood in the doorway to the Ladies Room, giving pointed looks to the few who had yet to take their seat. An older woman with a shock of black hair pulled back into a bun stood beside her. It seemed impossible, but this new woman looked even more stern than Amelia.

Once everyone took their seat, Amelia and the mystery woman walked into the room, coming to a stop in the space between the two tables. "I hope everyone had a good night's rest," Amelia said. Her tone was even and impersonal. "Usually, you will be eating in the dining room but this morning it was decided to combine your breakfast with your first lesson."

Amelia paused and turned towards the unknown woman. She took a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her as her eyes scanned the tables. "My name is Minerva McGonagall," she said. Her voice was sharp, words staccato and to the point. "You may call me Madam McGonagall. I will be the main person conducting your lessons during your stay here at the castle."

A murmur rippled through the two tables. It had been a fair assumption that Amelia would be the one leading their lessons but, clearly, they were wrong.

"In front of you is what you will see at every meal you will have here," Madam McGonagall continued, ignoring the shift around her. "This morning's lesson will be to instruct you all on proper etiquette so there will be no … _embarrassments_ during your dinner tonight with the royal family."

Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes immediately finding Amelia. They were being taught dinner etiquette? That was supposed to be something that was common knowledge, wasn't it? Why would Amelia spend a _week_ with Hermione if they were just going to be taught it anyway?

Amelia kept her expression neutral as she watched Madam McGonagall, not meeting Hermione's eyes. Hermione sat back in her seat. Maybe this was just a cautionary thing so, like Madam McGonagall said, no one would embarrass themselves in front of the royal family. If anything, this was a chance to show off what Hermione knew. Yes, Amelia was the reason that Hermione knew the difference between an oval soup spoon and a place spoon, but it was still _something_. Hermione so rarely was able to show off that she knew something and a small part of her wanted Madam McGonagall to call on her.

"I will be back after the lesson," Amelia said, drawing Hermione's attention back to her. Her eyes moved over Hermione and she could have sworn that they lingered on her for a second. Amelia nodded at Madam McGonagall and left the Ladies Room.

Madam McGonagall spent the next half hour going over each of the different utensils on the placemat and what they were used for. To Hermione's disappointment, she did not call on anyone to answer questions. It was like Madam McGonagall was assuming that everyone knew nothing about dinner etiquette.

The first time Hermione learned about dinner etiquette she had a hard time trying paying attention – again, who really _cares_ about that sort of thing – and it was almost excruciating to go through it a second time. Hermione was sure her expression mirrored some of the others. Alicia had a glazed look in her eyes as she stared straight ahead while Cho was actively picking at her freshly manicured nails.

Hermione looked to the side at Ginny. She was listening with rapt attention, her eyes focused on Madam McGonagall as she paced back and forth between the two tables. Her gaze went across to the other table to look at Susan. She also had an intense look of concentration. Again, Hermione was hit with the feeling that something wasn't adding up, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Madam McGonagall stopped pacing and turned to look at everyone. She had noticed more than half of them weren't paying attention, it was clear in the way her eyes tightened with annoyance every time they went over Cho or Daphne, but she never called any of them out. All Madam McGonagall did was clasp her hands in front of her tightly and raise her voice, "Let's see how well you were listening."

The doors opened and a long line of Fives came into the Ladies Room, each of them holding a covered plate. Hermione felt herself start to salivate at the thought of food; she hadn't realized how hungry she was until the muted scent of breakfast wafted into the room. The plates were placed in front of everyone and the covers removed. Hermione bit back a groan as the smell hit her full force. The Fives left the room and Madam McGonagall stood, watching them.

As much as Hermione wanted to, she refrained from grabbing the fork and tucking in. One of the first things they had been taught was that they needed to wait until it was clear that they were allowed to start eating. Madam McGonagall gave a small, satisfied small smile when no one began to eat and nodded at them.

The entirety of breakfast was a test to see how well people had been paying attention to Madam McGonagall. It was clear to Hermione that the reason she hadn't called anyone out for not paying attention before was to be able to call them out while _actually_ eating.

"Lady Hannah, I hope you are not eating your eggs with your salad fork."

"Lady Lavender, at what point do you think it is okay to rest your arms on the table?"

"Ladies do not slouch, Lady Hermione."

It was like Madam McGonagall got some sick sense of satisfaction when pointing out the mistakes people made, an almost smug looking smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Conversation was sparse, stilted even, everyone too busy focusing on their own actions to really talk. Hermione started second guessing every move of her own, feeling her body tense every time Madam McGonagall scrutinized her. She was suddenly very happy to not be called on.

It was to everyone's relief when breakfast was finished. Hermione leaned back in her seat, letting out a sigh as Fives appeared to take their plates away. She caught Ginny's eye and couldn't stop the grin when her friend gave a small thumbs up. Almost everyone looked at least a little bit stressed, the exception being Cho and Fleur. They were the only ones who didn't get reprimanded.

"It'll do for your first night," Madam McGonagall said once the tables were cleared. "You have a free hour before you need to be back in this room. I would suggest going back to your rooms to freshen up… you _will_ be meeting with the prince, after all. Dismissed."

Hermione felt sick at the thought of having to meet with the prince, the guilt and embarrassment from the previous night coming back to her in full force. Ginny bolted up from her seat and she began speed walking – along with Katie, Hannah, and Lavender – out of the Ladies Room. Madam McGonagall made an exasperated sound but chose not to say anything.

Hermione followed the others out of the room at a much slower pace, not at all looking forward to the upcoming meeting. Ginny stood waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, shifting her weight impatiently. "Come _on_ , Hermione," she whined. They were the only ones left on that level. Hermione could hear the thunderous sound of high heels on marble above them.

"You look fine, Ginny," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She finally reached Ginny and they began ascending the stairs. "I don't get what's the rush, we literally got dressed not even two hours ago."

"Do you know how much I was sweating at breakfast?" Ginny bit back, sounding a mix between incredulous and annoyed. "I am _not_ meeting the prince being clammy and smelling of body odor."

They parted and Hermione slipped back into her room. Tonks was there, sitting at the small table with an embroidery hoop in her hands. She glanced up in surprise. "You're back early," she commented, putting the hoop and standing up.

"Breakfast ended and we have an hour until we're needed." Hermione shrugged. She held out her arms, presenting herself to the other woman. "Do I look like I need to be freshened up?"

Tonks looked confused at Hermione's question. "No," she replied slowly. "Did someone say something?"

"Madam McGonagall said we'll be meeting the prince in about an hour." Hermione's stomach flip-flopped uneasily again. "She suggested we _freshen up_."

"You look fine, my lady. We can always find something else for you to wear?"

"I'm good, thank you." Hermione's eyes went over to the bookshelf, wondering if she'd have enough time to finish a chapter or two before she was needed when an idea struck her. "Hey, Tonks. Amelia said something about me being able to use a phone? Do you know where one is?"

"Yes!" Tonks nodded eagerly. "We were informed that you would need to use the telephone every once and a while. I can show you where it is?"

"That would be great."

Hermione followed Tonks out of her room and down towards where the main hall was. She tried glancing at the cases filled with antiques as they passed but Tonks was walking too fast for her to really appreciate them. The telephone looked out of place in the corridor, sitting on a small circular table away from the main hall. Hermione picked up the receiver and dialed the number to St. Mungo's.

" _Good morning, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. How may I help you?_ "

"Yes, hi," Hermione began. Tonks had excused herself to give Hermione privacy and she watched the older woman's back as she walked away. "I was hoping to talk to Robert Granger?"

" _Oh, yes! Lady Hermione's father!_ " The cheery woman on the other end of the line perked up. Hermione gave an awkward chuckle, not sure how to respond to that. " _Give me one second._ "

There was a click and Hermione was put on hold. She blew out a breath and her eyes scanned the corridor.

" _Hello?_ " Hermione's heart stuttered as her father's voice suddenly appeared. " _Robert Granger speaking._ "

"Dad." She had to clear her throat to be able to speak clearly. "Dad, it's me."

" _Hermione!_ " Her father's voice perked up at once. " _How is the castle? Are they treating you right?_ "

"They are." Her mind flashed to Cho and Daphne; her father didn't have to know about them. "But don't worry about that, how are you feeling?"

He grunted and mumbled something that Hermione couldn't quite decipher. " _Ready to get out of this damn place_."

"I bet." She smiled sadly. "If everything goes to plan, you'll be out of there soon."

" _Oh yeah?_ " Her father's voice took on a sly tone. " _Planning to bring out the old Granger charm on His Highness, are we?_ "

" _Dad!_ " Hermione hissed, her face heating up. "It's not – I just got – it's _not_ like that!" Her father's rich laughter let her know that he was just joking. She huffed with mock annoyance. "I'm hanging up."

" _Alright, go win the heart of our prince, sweetie._ "

"This is me hanging up."

Her father's laughter turned into a hacking cough, bringing the lighthearted mood to screeching halt. Hermione worried on her lip as she waited for him to get the coughing under control. After a few minutes he stopped coughing and grunted, " _Sorry about that_."

"Don't apologize for being sick."

" _I should probably let you go,_ " her father said after a pause. " _I'm sure you're extremely busy_."

"Never too busy to talk to you." Hermione smiled sadly. She could tell his coughing fit had taken a lot out of him but didn't want to admit it. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

The call ended and Hermione leaned against the wall. It felt amazing to be able to talk to her father, and the fact that he was able to joke around with her lessened the guilt she felt for leaving without physically saying goodbye. Hearing his voice strengthened her resolve. She just had to make it far enough in the Drawing to be able to pay for her father's surgery and medical bills.

Her determination renewed, Hermione hurried back to her room. She needed to mentally prepare herself to officially meet the prince.

**[o][o][o]**

"Look alive, ladies!"

Everyone's attention was drawn to Amelia as she walked into the Ladies Room. She paused, taking in the changes of appearances people had made. Many of the girls had taken Madam McGonagall's advice of freshening up to heart; everyone but Hermione and Fleur had changed into a different dress while Daphne and Parvati were sporting entirely new hairstyles.

"In a few minutes I will be taking you all to where you will get to meet Prince Harry," Amelia announced. Everyone had gathered in a half circle around the older woman. "Once in the room, take your seat immediately. There will be cameramen and photographers around so try your best to ignore them. Looking directly at the camera or trying to get their attention is considered tacky and will only lead to embarrassment on your part."

That wouldn't be a problem for Hermione. She was determined to avoid the cameras as much as was deemed appropriate.

Amelia led them out of the Ladies Room and through a maze of corridors, eventually stopping before yet another set of closed doors. She turned to the women, her eyes roaming over them as they waited anxiously. Ginny reached over and grasped Hermione's arm in anticipation.

"Remember, straight to your seats," Amelia repeated. The doors opened behind her and she stepped aside.

The room was bright with both sunlight and expensive looking lighting fixtures. Two rows of royal blue loveseats were situated over at one end of the room while a single loveseat was off to the side, just far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. At opposite ends of the room were two camera crews. As soon as they stepped into this new room, a few cameras turned towards them.

Hermione straightened, setting her shoulders as she walked behind Ginny. By the time they had reached the loveseats, the entire front row had been filled. Ginny had a pretty little pout on her face as she walked to the back row, taking a seat near the middle. Hermione followed after her, relieved that Romilda's voluminous hairdo would hopefully keep her out of most of the shots.

Amelia quickly took her place in front of the loveseats. "How this will work is Prince Harry will bring each of you over to that loveseat over there." Her tone was muted, making sure her voice didn't carry over to the camera crews. "You each will have a few minutes to meet with the prince and make an impression. When your time is up the prince will bring you back and take the next lady."

Amelia's eyes cut over to the doors behind them and took a deep breath. "I wish all of you the best of luck."

A disembodied voice announced the arrival of Prince Harry and suddenly all cameras were on them. Hermione stood with everyone else and dipped into a curtsy as he walked over to Amelia. Hermione's heart thudded painfully in her chest as they all sat back down. Dressed in a deep green silk shirt, black tie and black dress pants, Hermione had to admit that he looked devilishly handsome.

Prince Harry turned to the first loveseat and held out his hand to Parvati, helping her up from her seat. He murmured something too quiet for Hermione to hear and then bent down, pressing a lingering kiss on the back of Parvati's hand.

Hermione felt her blood run cold and she stiffened as everyone around her sighed wistfully. She clenched her fists on her knees. Ginny's hand reached over and clasped hers, giving a reassuring squeeze. Hermione looked at her friend and received a small smile, although the concern was clear in Ginny's brown eyes.

Everyone began to whisper excitedly to each other as Prince Harry led Parvati over to the isolated sofa and sat down with her. Hermione focused on her breathing, trying to stop herself from freaking out. The cameras had split into two groups; one getting various shots of the prince and Parvati while the other circled around the loveseats, getting reactions from the other girls.

"It'll be okay," Ginny said softly, giving her hand another squeeze. Out of the corner of Hermione's eye she saw a camera focus in on them. She forced herself to smile at Ginny and tried to look as natural as possible. She wasn't sure if she was pulling it off.

"Even if he does see them," Ginny put her head close to Hermione's, giving the illusion that they were having a private conversation, "he won't react. And I highly doubt the cameras will pick them up from where they are."

Ginny's words did manage to calm Hermione down a little bit, and she felt a rush of gratitude towards her friend. In that moment, she couldn't imagine not having Ginny with her in this competition. She'd be lost without her.

One by one, Prince Harry escorted the girls to the loveseat for their introduction. As soon as Prince Harry was out of earshot, whoever was around the girl who just returned swooped in, eagerly whispering for information as subtly as the could… which was not very subtle at all.

The prince made his way through the first row and, before Hermione knew it, he was offering his hand to Ginny. She stood up, a pretty blush dusting across her cheeks as he kissed the back of her hand. Hermione let out a breath as she watched them walk away.

"Look at them," Luna sighed wistfully beside her. She had that ever-present dreamlike expression on her face. "They almost look like the king and queen from the back."

That comment earned Luna glares from those who had heard her. Hermione had to agree with Luna, however. Prince Harry and Ginny _did_ remind her of King James and Queen Lily. They looked good together.

In what seemed like no time at all, Prince Harry was escorting Ginny back to the loveseats. She had a slightly dazed expression as she sat back down and, if it were any other day, Hermione would've been highly amused. Hermione took a deep breath as the prince turned towards her. This was it; there was no turning back now.

Hermione's shaky hand grasped Prince Harry's and she stood up. She kept repeating to herself Ginny's words – Prince Harry would know better than to say anything about her scars, the cameras kept their distance and wouldn't be able to pick them up – but she still felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

"Lady Hermione," Prince Harry murmured, lifting her hand up. Hermione braced herself, waiting for his reaction when he saw the scars.

There was no turning back now.

Hermione barely felt the brush of Prince Harry's lips across her knuckles. He kept eye contact with her as he did so, quickly straightening up and guiding her to the loveseat. Hermione fought to keep the confusion off her face as they sat down. The kiss felt much shorter than the ones he gave the others. She hoped she was overanalyzing the entire situation.

There was a slight pause as they got themselves situated on the loveseat. Hermione felt his skin prickle, very aware of all the cameras – and eyes – that were on her.

"Lady Hermione, I'd like to begin with an apology," Prince Harry said quietly.

"Apologize?" Hermione tilter her head. Why on earth would _he_ be the one to apologize? "I'm not sure I follow…"

"You're obviously uncomfortable with what happened last night," he said. His eyes were soft as he looked at her. "And believe me when I say that was _not_ my intention. I deeply apologize."

Hermione's eyes widened at Prince Harry's words. "You don't have to apologize." She shook her head. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. You were just trying to help me, and I reacted horribly."

Hermione's heart was pounding furiously and she felt short of breath but, somehow, she managed to sound calm and collected. She mentally patted herself on her back.

"How about," Prince Harry began, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, "if we _both_ accept each other's apologies?"

"Even though you have no reason to apologize?" Hermione asked, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"Neither do _you_."

"Fine. I accept your apology."

"And I, yours." Prince Harry's grin softened, and his eyes flickered to Hermione's forehead. "How is your head?"

"It's fine," she replied, resisting the urge to touch the spot where the bruise was.

He nodded, his eyes going back to the other loveseats. He stood up and offered his hand to Hermione. This time, Hermione grasped it without any hesitation. This hadn't been bad, at all. In fact, she _enjoyed_ their conversation.

"It truly is a pleasure meeting you," Prince Harry murmured as they walked.

"The same for you."

Hermione sat back down next to Ginny and Prince Harry moved on to Luna. Ginny reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. Hermione looked at Ginny and grinned, feeling confident. She'd gotten through the first hurdle. This was the first time since arriving that she felt like she could actually do this.

As Prince Harry and Luna walked away, almost everyone turned to look at Hermione. She could see the questions in their eyes. Hermione knew right away that they had noticed that the prince had treated her differently. The smug looking grins she caught Daphne and Cho sending her way made the confidence Hermione had felt shrivel up and run away.


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: What's this? Another update without it being months and months since the last? Gasp!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _Harry Potter_ or the novel this is based off of _The Selection_. J.K. Rowling and Kiera Cass are the ones who came up with it! I'm letting my fantasies run free!**

**Enjoy~**

**The Drawing**

**Chapter Six**

As soon as the meeting with Prince Harry was finished, he was whisked out of the room by a group of people Hermione hadn't noticed until then. Amelia had dismissed them, telling them to take the afternoon off to get ready for dinner with the royal family. "Lessons _will_ begin tomorrow afternoon," she told them before walking out of the room.

The tension had all but gone from Hermione as she followed Ginny back to the Ladies Room, leaving her feeling drained. She wanted to go back to her room to nap but decided against it for now. Ginny would surely want to talk to Hermione and Katie in the Ladies Room. Plus, they did have _all_ afternoon to themselves.

Ahead of them, Parvati, Lavender, and Angelina were locked in an animated discussion as they compared their conversations with each other. Susan and Hannah were talking about the upcoming dinner with the royal family, both of them expressing how worried they were to mess up while Cho and Daphne were critiquing how each girl looked next to Prince Harry.

The Ladies Room was bright with the early afternoon sunlight, giving the room a cheery air to it. Hermione followed Ginny and Katie as they skipped to a pair of beige plush sofas by the large bay windows overlooking a field. Hermione sat down next to Ginny while Katie sat on the sofa across from them.

"I can't believe we just met the prince," Katie said, sounding dazed.

"And we're meeting the king and queen this evening." Ginny grinned excitedly. "This feels like a dream."

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Daphne's grin was smug as she walked by them, Cho and Romilda trailing after her. They tittered with each other as they continued on to the corner of the room. "You'll be waking up sooner than you think."

"We'll show them," Ginny murmured, glaring at the girls as they walked away.

"They're just trying to get a rise out of you," Katie said. "Don't listen to them."

"They're just so _nasty_ ," Ginny spat. She took a deep breath. "But you're right, they're just trying to get to us. The best way we can respond is by making it farther in the Drawing then they do. Let's see how they feel when they see us in the top four."

Hermione shifted awkwardly at Ginny's words. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't be in the Drawing for that long. She found that she liked Prince Harry when they spoke earlier and, while she could admit that he was very handsome, Hermione knew that she'd have no romantic feelings towards him. If Prince Harry kept her in the competition for that long, she would feel guilty for having led him on.

Hermione frowned to herself, leaning back into the sofa as Ginny and Katie talked about their conversations with Prince Harry. That was one part of her plan that Hermione didn't think all the way through. She was so determined just to get picked and _stay_ in the competition for the money that she didn't think of _how_ she would go home. She could just ask the prince to send her home, Hermione supposed. But if she stayed _too_ long, he might have begun to see her in a romantic light and attempt to persuade her to stay.

Hermione crinkled her nose. She was delusional if she thought that Prince Harry would be attracted to her with in the first place; there were so many other gorgeous and interesting girls there that were more suitable for this lifestyle. An unpleasant feeling settled in her stomach, making Hermione huff. Why was she even bothered by that?

"- don't you think?"

"Huh?" Ginny and Katie looked amused (Katie more so than Ginny) as they stared at her. Hermione's cheeks warmed as soon as she realized they had been speaking to her. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Prince Harry wasn't as formal as we'd thought he'd be, don't you think?" Ginny asked, a smirk on her face. She knew Hermione wasn't paying attention.

"Oh. Yes." Hermione cleared her throat. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Bad?" Katie asked, looking horrified. "Why would you think it would be bad?"

"Uh…"

"Hermione's _always_ been a bit shy when it comes to romance," Ginny said quickly, "and when she's nervous she starts rambling and embarrasses herself."

Hermione glared at Ginny, equal parts thankful and annoyed at her friend.

"Really?" Katie looked at Hermione, her eyes wide. "But you're so sure of yourself."

"I am?"

"She is?"

"Hey!" Hermione swatted Ginny's arm. She laughed, leaning away.

Hermione decided to back to her room after a while, the exhaustion from that morning catching up with her. Dinner with the royal family was sure to be another stressful event and she wanted to try and rest. Ginny had waved her away when she explained her reason for leaving, still caught up in her conversation with Katie.

After her nap, Hermione showered and, with a resigned sigh, sat down in the chair presented to her in front of a mirror. Tonks and Sally got to work on drying and styling Hermione's hair, tossing ideas back and forth on how to style her bangs around the bruise along her temple. By now, it had turned a dark blue hue.

"Have you thought about what to wear tonight?" Sally asked.

"How about something like…" Hermione paused, trying to remember the dresses she'd seen in the closet that morning, "a longer dress?"

The looks Tonks and Sally gave Hermione made her want to shrink down in her chair. Tonks turned to Sally, "Go grab the chiffon dress we were thinking about earlier."

"You may as well just pick out the dresses for me from now on," Hermione said as Sally disappeared into the closet. Tonks didn't respond, giving her a placating smile as she resumed applying makeup.

Sally returned and, in her arms, was a long, sleeveless red dress. Hermione swallowed instinctively, eyeing the garment warily. She'd expected to be given a dress in a soft colour like they had in the past couple of days.

"What do you think?" Sally asked, presenting it.

"It's a bit… bold."

"Well it _is_ a special night."

Hermione pinched her lips together as she examined the dress. Her heart began to thump painfully in her chest, the thought of her wearing something so bold making her a little lightheaded.

Tonks paused with what she was doing and took a step back. "Do you mind if I speak openly, Lady Hermione?" she asked.

"Of course." Hermione ripped her eyes away from the dress with a frown. "You don't have to ask to do that."

"This will be the first time the royal family, not just Prince Harry, will experience everyone together and interacting," she said. Sally nodded sagely behind her. "Please trust me when I say that even this gown will be toned down compared to what other ladies will be wearing."

"This is the time to stand out," Sally added.

"I don't know…." Hermione hummed. She glanced from the dress back to Tonks and Sally. They had such earnest expressions that it made Hermione's chest tighten. "Okay, I trust you."

The relief on Tonks and Sally's faces made Hermione's guilt increase. Tonks went back to work on applying makeup while Sally hung the dress up on a hanger. She fluttered around the room, grabbing items that Hermione couldn't see, humming to herself.

**[o][o][o]**

Nearly an hour later, Hermione was dressed and ready to go for dinner. She examined herself in the mirror. While she still thought the red was a little too bold for her tastes, it wasn't as bad as Hermione had initially thought it would be. Her makeup, too, was darker than she would've liked. She decided not to fight it.

Hermione left to go down to the dining room. To her surprise, she was one of the last people at the dining hall. Ginny waved her over from the end of the large dining table, pointing to the empty seat between her and Hannah.

The dining table sat directly in the middle of the room, surrounded by highbacked wooden chairs with an intricate looking swirl design at the top. As Hermione neared the chairs, she could see flecks of gold mixed in with the wood on the swirls. Candles floated lazily above everyone, the bright lights emitting a cozy and personal atmosphere. Fancy looking frames hung on the walls with portraits of people Hermione didn't recognize.

Hermione sat down beside Ginny and gave everyone around her a small smile. She was happy she listened to Tonks and Sally about the girls being so dressed up. Hermione's dress, while bold to her, was nothing in comparison to the dresses the other girls were wearing. Ginny was brave enough to have her black dress lined with rhinestones along the bodice.

Hermione wasn't surprised to see Daphne, Cho, and Romilda seated near the head of the table, especially with the two empty chairs near them. The smug expressions on their faces, and the bitter ones from the girls near them, was enough to let Hermione know she'd thankfully missed out on some drama.

What did surprise Hermione, however, was the empty chair on their end of the table by Ginny. Her breath stuttered as soon as it clicked that _someone_ from the royal family would be sitting with them during dinner.

Ginny sat across from Lavender, whose blue eyes kept darting from the three empty seats. "I hope Prince Harry sits on our side of the table," she sighed, leaning against the table.

"Either way it'll be a member of the royal family sitting beside us." Katie, who was sitting beside Lavender, said.

"Yeah, but it might not be the _prince_ ," she whined.

Alicia, who was sitting on the other side of Katie, turned at Lavender's tone and scoffed. "Are you seriously complaining about that?" she asked incredulously. "Do you know how many people would kill to be in your seat right now?"

"I'm just saying." Lavender pouted for a moment then turned to Hermione and Ginny. "I imagine the two of you are really happy to be here, though."

Everyone froze. Hermione's shoulders tensed up as her brain processed what she'd just heard. Lavender couldn't have meant that, could she? No. Judging no the look of her face, it was obvious that her comment was not malicious at all.

Ginny sat stiffly in her chair, her fists clenched under the table. Redness was slowly beginning to creep its way up her neck. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice controlled.

"Just that you two have never done this sort of thing before. It's got to feel great."

"Lavender!" Alicia looked at the younger girl with disapproval. "That was rude."

Lavender's eyes went wide, her hands coming up to her mouth. "It was?"

Her face was bright red and her eyes began to shine with tears. Hermione sighed, "Yeah, it was a bit rude."

"I am so sorry!" Lavender turned her gaze to Hermione and Ginny, her eyes wide and imploring. "I didn't mean for that to come off as rude, at all. Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"Lavender, it's okay," Ginny said.

"No, it isn't." She shook her head with such ferocity that the bun her hair was pulled into shifted slightly. She didn't notice. "I should've known better. Ginny, Hermione, I'm _so_ sorry!"

Hermione felt bad for Lavender. She knew from the information package she'd received that Lavender was the youngest of the group at seventeen. From the few interactions she'd had with her, Hermione could tell Lavender was a bit immature compared to everyone else. Perhaps a bit naïve, too. "It's okay, Lavender."

"Calm down," Katie said, her voice soft. Lavender's mouth snapped shut. "You made a mistake and apologized for it. They accepted it. Everything's fine, just try to think before you speak on subjects of such a delicate nature."

Lavender nodded and lowered her gaze, sniffling. Katie reached over and began to fix Lavender's hair. Hermione let out a breath and leaned back in her seat, sharing a look with Ginny.

"Presenting His Majesty, King James, Her Majesty, Queen Lily, and His Highness, Prince Harry."

Chairs scraped across the floor as everyone stood, turning towards the double doors that magically opened. Hermione dropped into a curtsy. An unpleasant fluttering sensation squirmed its way into way into her stomach.

The royal family walked into the dining room with King James leading the way, Queen Lily on his arm. Hermione's breath hitched at the sight of the couple as they glided towards the table. The king was tailored in a crisp black suit and a tie that was not quite white but not beige either. Hermione had never seen the color before, but it matched the queen's dress perfectly. Queen Lily was wearing a long-sleeved dress that went down to the floor and spread out behind her. Her hair was in a half up, half down style. She looked absolutely breathtaking.

Prince Harry followed after his parents. He had changed into a suit like his father's and had a simple black tie. His eyes were on his parents and he had a soft smile. Hermione heard Lavender sigh softly.

They rose from their curtsy and the royal family took their seats. Hermione's heart thudded in her chest as she watched King James and Queen Lily head to the front of the table, taking the two empty seats there. Prince Harry moved to the empty seat by Hermione and Ginny and they sat down.

The look of absolute outrage on Daphne's face made Hermione shrink back in her seat. Cho's expression wasn't much better. Along the table, the girls were looking over at them with a mixture of bitterness and jealousy. It was suddenly extremely warm.

King James cleared his throat, breaking the spell that seemed to take over the room. A quick look of amusement crossed his face, but it was gone just as fast as it arrived. He grabbed the chute of wine that was in front of him and stood.

"Ladies, I welcome you to Hogwarts Castle," he began. "Before we begin with dinner, I'd like to propose a toast. To each of you wonderful ladies, I wish you the best of luck. And to my son, Harry, I met the love of my life during my Drawing. I know that someone sitting at this table will be yours. To the Drawing!"

Glasses raised in the air as a chorus of 'To the Drawing' was said. King James sat back down and suddenly Fives appeared, placing plates of food in front of everyone. For a moment, only the sound of tableware could be heard, everyone getting what they needed or wanted for their dinner.

"What did you think of this afternoon?" Katie asked, turning her torso so that it faced Prince Harry. "It must have been overwhelming to meet everyone all at once."

"It was a bit," Prince Harry said slowly. He took a quick sip of his water. "However, everyone was so nice and welcoming that I forgot how nervous I'd been earlier."

"Why would you be nervous?" Hermione bit back a groan as Lavender spoke. It was like the girl had no social awareness.

"Anyone would be nervous meeting a group of new people," Ginny said tightly, shooting a look at Lavender.

Katie nodded. " _Especially_ if it was going to be publicized."

Hermione's eyes darted back and forth between Ginny and Katie. Something in both of their tones didn't sit right with her. Ginny could hold a grudge, that Hermione knew, so it wasn't _too_ much of a surprise that she'd given Lavender a little attitude. Katie giving attitude, however, threw her. She'd been nothing but sweet and inclusive to everyone since arriving at the castle.

Which hadn't been all that long ago, Hermione realized with a jolt. They'd only been at the castle for _two days_. She didn't even _know_ Katie.

Alicia cleared her throat, leaning forward to look at Prince Harry. "You mentioned during our conversation that you were a fan of Quidditch," she said. "Do you play?" She caught Hermione's eye and smiled briefly.

"You like Quidditch?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"I love Quidditch." If Prince Harry noticed the attitude coming from Ginny and Katie, he didn't acknowledge it. He turned to Alicia. "And I do play, although not as much as I would like."

"Do you follow the league at all?" Alicia asked.

"Yes. I'm a huge fan of the Chudley Cannons."

Ginny's head whipped around. "You're a Cannons fan?"

"You like them too?"

"Of course I do!" Ginny exclaimed. Alicia looked like she'd just sucked on a lemon and Hermione shot her a sympathetic look. "They've had a couple brutal seasons, but it feels like things are starting to look up. It's about time, too."

"I've always found Quidditch to be stressful to watch," Katie interjected. "Are you not scared of being up so high and at such speeds?"

"Not at all!" Prince Harry shook his head. Hermione couldn't help but grin at the enthusiasm coming from him. "The higher the better, in my opinion."

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"Not a fan of heights, Katie?" Lavender asked. It was the first time that evening that she'd not said anything stupid. Hermione almost felt proud.

"I prefer my feet on the ground."

It suddenly occurred to Hermione that she hadn't said a single thing during this whole conversation. "Me too," she said quickly, smiling at Katie. She hoped it didn't come off as panicked. "Heights and I do not mix."

"What about you, Lady Alicia?" Prince Harry asked. "Do you play a lot of Quidditch?"

"I'm in the same boat as you. Not as much as I'd like to." Alicia's expression brightened at the conversation going back to her. "Still, back home I managed to be able to play once a month or so."

"I'm jealous," he said wistfully. "Just to play once a month would be a dream."

"It must be hard to be able to get in time to do things you want to do," Lavender said softly.

"Sometimes. But I'm also very grateful for my position in life. It's not something I take for granted." He glanced around him. "So. Do you ladies know what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"Just our lessons, I believe," Hermione replied. She wanted to say more but the words weren't coming to her. This wasn't good.

"I know Madam McGonagall will be teaching our morning lesson," Lavender said eagerly. "Not sure about the afternoon one, though."

"Didn't Amelia say Madam McGonagall would be the main instructor for our lessons?" Ginny asked. Her tone was cordial, but Hermione could sense she was still bitter towards the younger girl. "It's safe to assume she'll be our instructor for both."

"To make a long story short," Alicia jumped in, "we'll be having lessons tomorrow."

"We haven't been told much other than that, I'm afraid." Katie sighed with a shake of her head. She glanced at Prince Harry and gave a flirtatious smile. "What are _your_ plans for tomorrow?"

Prince Harry was momentarily stunned by Katie's words but recovered quickly. He shot her his own grin, "It's up in the air right now."

Ginny, Alicia, and Lavender all looked less than impressed as Prince Harry and Katie smiled at each other.

There was a lull in conversation after that, everyone focusing on their food in front of them. Ginny, Alicia, and Lavender pushed the food around on their plates, seemingly lost in their thoughts. Katie happily ate in silence, looking quite pleased with herself.

The rest of dinner passed by uneventfully. Ginny and Katie were the two who Prince Harry seemed the most taken with, much to the dismay of everyone else around them. Not that he paid them any more attention than the rest of the girls. It was the way Prince Harry spoke with them, speaking to their interests directly, that gave Hermione that impression.

Alicia's face was dark with frustration and she replied with short answers anytime someone talked to her. Hermione's heart went out to her – she'd been the one to bring up Quidditch, yet Ginny and Katie were the ones to swoop in and direct the conversation.

Hermione still wasn't too sure on what she'd witnessed earlier. The scenario itself was something Hermione was familiar with – girls trying to get a guy's attention was not exactly an original concept. It was, however, Hermione's first time experiencing that situation firsthand. Speaking in _too_ nice of a tone to the other girls, jumping into the conversation no matter who was talking. It left Hermione's mind reeling.

What shocked Hermione the most was how easy it was for Ginny to jump right into that proverbial battleground. Here they were, two Fives, and she was managing to keep up with Alicia, a Two, Lavender, a Three, and Katie, another Three. And the _attitude_ Ginny displayed when talking to Lavender…

Hermione was shaken out of her thoughts as a hand reached in front of her and took her plate away. The table was being cleared and it looked like the evening was beginning to wrap up. Her eyes darted around the room. Had she been zoning out? If she had… for how long?

King James stood up, causing the multiple conversations to die down. "I hope everyone enjoyed their meal," he said, smiling. "I want to thank all of you ladies once again for coming to the castle and participating in the Drawing. I know it won't be easy having your lives publicized during your stay here, and it takes courage to be able to do this. I hope all of you have a good night."

With that said, Queen Lily and Prince Harry rose from the table. After a quick goodbye, they left the dining hall.

As soon as the double doors closed behind them, the room erupted into loud conversation. Those who hadn't been close to Hermione's side of the table jumped up and hurried over.

"I cannot believe Prince Harry chose to sit by _you_." Daphne moaned. She crossed her arms, a haughty expression coming over her face.

Alicia turned to glare at her. "Maybe he could sense how _wonderful_ your personality is and decided to not subject himself to that for the evening," she snapped.

"Excuse me?" Daphne asked, her expression morphing into a snarl. She took a step forward and Pansy, who was next to her, quickly backed away. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

"Do _you_?" Alicia challenged. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, her hands on her hips.

Daphne let out a condescending laugh. "I know what this is about. You're just angry that your attempt at getting the prince's attention failed."

"You were on the opposite site of the table," Lavender pointed out. "How would you even know what we were talking about?"

"It's called an indoor voice, honey. You lot might want to learn about it if you don't want your conversations to be overheard."

The sound of a chair scraping across the marble flooring made everyone wince. "What is your problem?" Angelina demanded loudly. She pointed an accusing finger. "You've been nothing but horrible to everyone you talk to since stepping foot into this castle. Why? It's not making you any friends here."

Daphne let out a loud laugh that sounded to Hermione more like a cackle. She shifted her weight and propped her hands on her hips. "Newsflash - I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to become queen."

"You and everyone else in this room," Cho said. She was still sitting her in chair and looked quite bored with the whole conversation.

"But the difference is _I'll_ be the one who actually makes it to the top."

The situation was deteriorating quickly. Hermione's eyes darted around the room. Her mouth had become dry and there was this energy within her that hadn't been there during dinner.

"What is going on in here?"

Hermione started at the new voice and she turned around. Relief spread through her as Amelia marched towards the group. That relief soon went away, however, when she saw the angry expression on the older woman's face.

"I apologize, Amelia," Alicia said. She sounded calm, the emotion in her voice earlier completely gone. "We just had a difference of opinions."

"Yes, I heard that." She looked between the girls and gave a heavy sigh. "I don't care if you do not get along with each other. What I do care about is you arguing in a place where people of importance might hear you… like the _royal dining hall._ "

Hermione winced at the venom in Amelia's voice. Alicia's dark skin paled dramatically and even Daphne looked nervous. No one spoke.

"Breakfast will be in the Ladies Room tomorrow and lessons will begin at ten o'clock sharp." Amelia's voice was stiff as she stared at everyone. "Until you learn how to be cordial and diplomatic with one another in _public_ , I suggest sticking to your own room or the Ladies Room. Dismissed."

**[o][o][o]**

**A/N: Things are starting to get catty up in here! Sorry for the shorter chapter; what I have planned would've made it very awkward to put in a single chapter or split it into two.**

**Don't be afraid to let me know what you think! I _love_ hearing from you guys.**

**Cheers,**

**HP.**


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